


Picking The Lock on Our Gilded Cage

by Methoxyethane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Arabian Nights Fusion, Arabian AU, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Prince Lance - Freeform, Reverse Scheherezade, Slow Burn, gladiator Keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2019-07-11 16:16:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Methoxyethane/pseuds/Methoxyethane
Summary: When Keith is bought by the Sultan for his harem, the very first thing he plans to do is kill his captor and escape. What he doesn't expect is for the king to spend every evening telling him stories, distracting Keith with cliffhangers night after night until running away is the farthest thing from his mind.It takes a long time to fall in love with someone. This story takes place over the course of 1001 Nights.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Keith could, if he thought back hard enough, remember a time before the Arena. He didn’t consider it worth the effort to try anymore. Whatever family, whatever life he had before now, was long out of his reach.

Nonetheless, he considered himself lucky. Fighting in the arena may have been something only slaves did but at least it was the highest honour among those involuntarily indebted, and he’d much rather spend every day spilling prisoner blood on the sand than be the one cleaning it off the weapons.

Not that that meant he was so content with his lot he’d never tried to escape before, but so far all he’d found was ways that DIDN’T work and the next time he was caught he’d lose a limb for his efforts. He’d just bide his time; it’s not like he had any other choices.

When he was told he’d be putting on a show for the visiting prince, Keith’s only concern was whether or not it meant he’d be rewarded with a skin of wine with his dinner if he performed well on such a special occasion. What he certainly had not considered was that the prince would watch him fighting, turn to Keith’s Master the coliseum owner, and declare he would be purchasing Keith… for his  _ harem _ .

To be perfectly honest at first Keith was simply too stunned to remember to use the opportunity as an escape attempt, not until he was already being escorted by two armed guards to the prince’s side. “Well hello my beauty,” the deeply tanned prince greeted with a charming smile. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, I am Lance and starting tonight I’ll be seducing you.”

Which was, Keith thought, rather an odd thing to say to one’s  _ property _ . 

It took nearly a full day to ride back with the prince’s entourage of guards all the way to his palace, a sprawling labyrinth of a white stone building Keith mistook for a small city when he’d seen it at a distance. But it was far too opulent for that, every room built huge and airy to limit the entrance of sand at the same time it let a breeze float through the entire building, burning lanterns and gold trim and sweet-smelling oil seeming to permeate the entire property like the whole palace was built to glitter.

Even the room they brought Keith to was covered in silks and huge open windows, big enough for him to jump through easily… if he wasn’t on the third floor. He probably would have just torn the curtains up to shimmy down anyway, except that the prince followed him into said opulent chambers and then opened a curtain to reveal a luxurious looking bed of cushions and Keith realized what exactly this new master of his intended from him for tonight.

He watched warily as the prince disrobed, taking off the bands and rings of gold jewelry and the navy silk jacket to hang them all in neat order. And then he proceeded to not take off his pants, instead lying directly down into the cushions with a sigh of, “Man, I’m beat!” And barely muttered to Keith like he’d just remembered him: “We’ll talk in the morning, I’m exhausted from that long horse ride. You’re probably no better from all that fighting, so for now you should just crash, too.”

Keith had no idea what to think. Was this… some kind of a test or trap? What would happen if he killed the prince in his sleep, would there be an army of personal guards at his throat in an instant? Keith didn’t like this. He didn’t trust this room and he didn’t trust this prince, not even willing to seat himself in the nest of pillows to rest in case the prince woke up and decided he now had enough energy to try and claim what was his.

He didn’t know enough about the surrounding area to try for a escape yet, knowing from experience that such an attempt would be foolhardy without knowing which direction he even needed to go to get out. And so, for that first night, Keith stayed in that room with his new master and paced the floors until his feet ached, waiting for something to happen that actually made sense.

He stayed awake all the way through dawn, all the way until the prince finally stirred from his peaceful slumber. And then he said he was going to the baths, and Keith was welcome to join him and perhaps wash the blood out of his hair if he wished, and… left Keith alone in the room.

There was, Keith checked to discover, a lone (but very large) guard stationed outside his door, but apparently no other direction or expectations were currently needed of Keith. Not sure what else to do, he sat down in hopes of easing the exhaustion headache he’d given himself from lack of rest after the arena fight and hours of riding.

He was dead asleep before his eyes even closed.

—

When Keith woke up, he was bathed, bandaged of all injuries and wearing new clothes. Not being the first time this had happened to him after passing out, he was nary concerned.

If anything was surprising, it was the fact that he was lain in the prince’s comfortable bed of pillows, the smell of something fresh and edible wafting to him just strong enough to break through the oils and incense of the palace, stirring a growling in his stomach drawing him from the most comfortable sleep he might have ever experienced in his life.

He saw the guard before he saw the source of the smell, instantly halting him where he was sitting up and stopping Keith from ravaging the room for food. The big guy had even darker skin than the prince did, and Keith realized only now that the arena’s underground prisons had kept everyone he knew out of the sunlight and therefore pale as clean steel. Did this mean he’d look like that, too, if he stayed out here above ground?

The guard looked over at him and smiled, wide and friendly and disarming. “Oho, you’re up! Lance wanted to invite you down to breakfast with him but it’s way too late for that now, so he sent some snacks up for you to go ahead and have while he’s busy working.” He gestured a thumb to the low table near the window Keith had been considering diving out of last night, open enough to the sky for Keith to see the sun was already well into it’s afternoon arc. Just how long HAD he been asleep? 

And then he saw the plate of fruits and cheeses, and made no effort not to seem like he was attacking it, practically tripping over cushions to dig his grubby little hands into the meal. The fruits were ripe and juicy and the cheese was soft and moldless, the most delicious things he had ever put in is fucking mouth. He uh… probably moaned a little.

He heard the guard chuckling at him a few feet away, and Keith swiveled his eyes over to see him watching Keith with an amused smile. “Sorry, I’m not making fun of you. We get a few newcomers who came from really bad backgrounds, so it’s only funny because all of us do the exact same thing.”

Keith paused, a chunk of bread falling out of the corner of his mouth. “‘Us?’” He wondered out loud, not so much about the guard’s specific origins as much what he was supposed to expect of a place that offered its slaves and staff food like  _ this _ .

“I’m Hunk, by the way,” the guard offered as Keith resumed eating at a more reasonable pace. “May I ask?”

Figuring the unasked question was for his name, Keith swallowed his food with a mouthful of clear water and answered the only way he knew how. “Keith of the Galran Arena.”

Hunk whistled, looking impressed. “Figures that’s where Lance picked you up,” he murmured to himself with a smile. 

Keith decided he was probably better off not knowing what that meant.

Not comfortable with attempting anything stupid with someone he probably couldn’t take out unarmed in the room, Keith spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the window.

He could see a large amount of the palace grounds from here, and it was a perfect time to survey them for weaknesses. The place looked completely useless for sneaking around, all the walls either full of windows or made of a crosshatch pattern that filled it with checkerboard holes, leaving no places to hide and no visible paths out of the huge property. Not to mention it was completely full of people, guards and servants and scholars and Keith didn’t even know what else, making any attempts to wander through unnoticed virtually impossible. 

At least for now. Night brought many advantages, and waiting to gather information brought even more. He’d figure this fancy prison out and be on his way to freedom before the next new moon.

The prince was back by sunset, the guard Hunk leaving the room at his return to give them privacy. 

“Hello, my lovely~” He greeted when he swaggered inside. “Did you have a relaxing day? I wanted to come up here and bother you the whole time but it seemed more important you get the rest.”

Rest up so Keith could better please his lord, he guessed. Fortunately this idiot had sent the guard out of the room, and better yet Keith could hear his heavy footsteps leading down the hall and away from the doorway…

“I know, I know, just because I had to pay money to a guy to meet you doesn’t excuse letting like two whole days pass before we could finally talk. But to be fair, you seemed really confused and disoriented after that huge guy hit you in the back of the head! Like you didn’t even remember the conversation we had before you got in the ring, which - okay makes sense that was only for like two seconds, haha…”

Keith was hardly paying attention to the rambling prince’s words, concentrated instead on the jeweled blue handle of the knife hanging on his belt. The prince would approach him soon, and Keith would wait til the second he got close enough, get his hands on that blade and make him regret ever trying to touch Keith. 

“...So when I said last night the word ‘harem’ to your boss at the fight club I don’t think I ever took you aside to explain what I really meant, because I actually want you to be my, um. Royal Consort?”

What was the difference between a consort and a concubine? Was there one? Maybe it was like, a matter of how private this was, and a consort wasn’t a bedmate to keep hidden from other’s eyes like a normal harem but instead a decoration hanging off his arm. Disgusting.

Keith had risen to his feet to greet the prince when he came in, leaving his body language open to approach. The fool finally got near enough to convincingly slip past his guard, and in moments Keith had the blade hilt in his hand and sliding out of its sheath.

The mistake he made was pulling back to spin a dropkick to his stomach, like Keith would have done in the ring. If he had just stabbed him in the stomach instead the prince wouldn’t have had warning for his attack, wouldn’t have caught his foot and wouldn't have been able to use that foot to flip Keith onto his back.

It was his own fault, Usually Keith was the one taking advantage of being underestimated, and he wasn’t expecting this unguarded royal brat to be able to defend against his professional-level attacks. But instead here he was being pinned in one move and disarmed just as easily, the prince looking slightly ruffled but not in the least bit surprised by Keith’s assault.

“All right, all right,” he sighed, sheathing the knife again but not getting off of Keith yet. “I probably should have expected that. After spending your life as an arena slave, you’re more interested in escaping than you are in becoming mine, that makes sense.”

Keith succeeded in kicking him off, his captor prince yelping and rolling away as a battle-trained leg swung towards his head for a second attack. He just help up his hands defensively though, not calling the guards or pulling out his knife to defend himself like he was actually taking Keith’s threat to his life seriously. “And, look, I totally understand that! Now Keith - can I call you by name? You don’t really have a title yet so I guess I’ll have to.”

What the ever screaming Allah FUCK was this guy on about? Annoyed, confused, and with no other ideas on what to do, Keith growled and leapt in for another attack that went clumsily, but successfully, avoided.

“And ANYWAY, the point is, I’m saying that for right now staying here is a way better option for you than escaping! You don’t have to be afraid of any honeymoon expectations because I get that it’s totally uncool to put the moves on you this soon, so we can just uh… hang out until you get used to the idea of being with me, or whatever.”

It was that that finally made Keith pause. Not the brief thought that Keith indeed didn’t know what to do or where to go once he got out of the palace, as that was less worrying than it should have been. No what stopped Keith from attacking was the very strange statement he’d just been offered, wherein his lecherous new master had just declared no intentions of forcing himself on Keith until… until what? 

Keith didn’t know, but he knew as someone who had been a slave for as many years as he had that this was a generous opportunity. The food here was worth sticking around for alone, and he could play along with shitty servant work or whatever he’d be doing in the meantime when this meant he was sure to get a break from fighting long enough to truly heal from his injuries for once and finally be at the peak of his strength… And once again, even if it was back to killing people at least it was better here with the sun and the clean water and the FOOD.

No. That was the talk of someone spoiled and lazy. One night, he promised himself. Anything beyond that was just going to make him indulgent, and he refused to be one of those happy houseslaves content with their lot in life. Keith was born for freedom, gods be damned, and he was going to find it.

“And what?” Keith asked, not ready to drop his guard in front of his bizarre company. “You want me to stay the night with you here, then? What’s to stop me from leaving the minute you fall asleep?”

The prince looked mildly panicked at the suggestion. “N-no, you can’t leave, ‘cause uh… ‘Cause if you do who will teach you to read!”

Keith paused. Blinked. Now THAT was a truly stunning offer to make a slave of any kind. Knowledge was power, after all. “I already know most of my letters,” Keith returned, almost as a test to see what his new master would do with it.

“Oh good!” His prince said cheerfully back. “That’ll save a lot of time, to be honest I wouldn’t have really known where to start anyway,” he laughed. “Actually you’d be better off with Coran teaching you than me, that’s like his real actual job, my job is just to be a professional douchebag. I don’t even think I have any books in my room.”

As soon as he said it his face lit up with in idea, gasping a little “Oh!” And Keith watched as the prince flitted around the large room for a moment. “Oh, I have an ida, there’s one book I always have, it’s freakin’ perfect!”

He triumphantly pulled a thick tome out of a chest in the corner, wandering over to part the curtains in front of his bed of sleeping pillows and plopped down in a cross-legged sit. He waved a hand to beckon Keith over, excitedly opening the book and flipping through pages while he waited for Keith to decide to venture over.

Slightly hesitant but still too generally baffled to argue yet, Keith picked out a cushion far enough away from the prince to avoid accidental contact. He was paid little mind, the prince still smiling fondly at his giant book with a sigh of, “Oh man it’s been years, I still remember every one of these stories! Mom used to read them to us at night.”

He flipped through the pages for a moment, mumbling about ‘exactly the right story’ before grinning out “Aha!” and settling down with the book in his lap.

“Once upon a time,” the prince began reading, his voice light and easy to follow, drawing Keith in to listen. “There was a little village in a far away kingdom called Crown Town. It was a beautiful and quaint little city, with tall walls around it and happy people within. There was a small lake just outside of the town, one where the fog rolled off of ever morning…” he cut himself off. “MAN this is boring, do all these stories start so slow? I bet I could do better myself!”

Keith raised an eyebrow, annoyed at the fast interruption when he’d found himself enjoying the prince's voice. “Well fine, then you do it! Just tell me the damned story.”

Lance sneered at him a little, closing the book with a smack. “Well maybe I will, GOD!”

“Fine, then do it!”

“I am doing it, just shut up and listen already!”

“I can’t listen if you don’t have shit to say.”

The prince scoffed loudly and dramatically, practically tossing his book out of the way. “Okay,” he started firmly, before pausing to look like he was wondering if this had been a bad idea. “Okay, okay I totally got this. SO.”

“Once upon a time,” he started again, “there was a man who died. The man’s work was the writing and telling of stories, but he could not defy death. The last story he was working on was about a brave and handsome prince who vanquishes a crafty raven. But now it seems their battle will go on for eternity. ‘I’m sick and tired of this!’ cried the raven. ‘I’m sick and tired of this!’ cried the prince as well. The raven escaped from the pages of the story and the prince pursued the foul creature. In the end, the prince took out his own heart and sealed the raven away by using a forbidden power. Just then, a murmur came from somewhere. ‘This is great!’ said the old man who was supposed to have died…”

Keith was enraptured in the new story instantly. That was a much more interesting hook, and he let himself get comfortable in the luxurious bedding while he listened to see where this odd tale was going, the prince’s voice somehow calming even for all it’s enthusiasm in telling his tale. Keith wanted to hang on every word, wanted to hear how the story turned out and if the fairytale prince ever got his heart back but…

He fell asleep well before hearing the ending.

—

Keith was well used to waking up before the sun rose, morning training for the gladiators beginning with the dawn they could barely see through the grates of their basement dungeon. That may have sounded like a torture tactic but it had actually been a kindness; staying underground and out of the sun had kept them cool and saved many from what would have been inevitable dehydration.

His life had been such a reliable routine in this regard, in fact, that when he woke up the next morning to an empty bed and the sun high in the sky his first instinct was to assume he was still dreaming. Nothing in real life could possibly be as soft as these pillows were, right? It was like he was lying down in a giant cloud…

Also, wasn’t he still a slave? Why on Earth would he be allowed to sleep so late, someone should have come to violently drag him out of the prince’s bed and put him to work. Except Keith was slowly returning to consciousness, and when he dragged himself out of his nest and swept the curtains to the rest of the room out of the way, he could see for certain how high the sun had really risen. Good god, was the life of a concubine really this indolent?

Then again, he had probably been a pretty hefty investment considering how good a competitor he’d been for the arena. And Keith had pulled his knife on his new master on the first night, the prince was probably biding his time and letting Keith get lazy so he could take what he’d paid for without a fight. It was disgusting, but at least if gave Keith time and opportunity.

“Ah, there you are, awake at last!” A strange man with a large curling moustache declared when Keith crept out, having been sitting at the low table near the window long enough for the nearby incense stick to have burned halfway down. “I am the Royal Historical Scholar, Coran. You must be the Sultan’s new inamorato, it’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance!”

Wait, the Sultan? This guy Lance wasn’t just a prince, he was the actual freaking  _ Sultan _ ? Oh, Keith was so going to get beheaded. He had to get the hell out of here.

Coran was looking at him expectantly, pulling a series of papers out and spreading them over the table. “Wash your face, get a bit of breakfast in you, and we’ll be ready to see where to start our reading lessons!”

Barely awake and completely at a loss for how to get out of this weird palace, Keith just sort of let habit take over and did as he was told. On the plus side, Coran was highly impressed by how much of the alphabet Keith remembered, so at least he was ahead on that end.

The lessons only lasted a couple short hours, after which Keith found himself with an open opportunity to slip unnoticed into the hallways to sneak around and get the lay of the land.

What he found in his wanderings were people. Crowds of people everywhere, all of whom seemed to have someplace to go and something to do. Hundreds of people living and working in this huge white and gold labyrinth of luxury, all with their own duties and own loved ones and own goals… Even the servants looked clear-headed and hard working, the light of life still shining in their eyes untainted by the grueling day to day grind of working in an uncaring world. Just what was this place? Was this even the same kingdom Keith had lived in his whole life? Or was this small sphere of royal living just that far removed from the rest of the world?

He stepped into another wide and heavily curtained chamber, which he recognized after a moment must be someone's personal bedroom from the array of pillows and furniture. A voice was speaking inside, and Keith ducked behind a pillar and out of sight until he could slip back to the doorway.

“So, princess, have you met him yet?” A feminine voice was asking. “This warrior bride your dear - I mean, his highness the sultan brought home yesterday?”

He peeked around the column to catch a glimpse of the two women, and even his disinclination towards the fairer sex wasn’t enough to stop his jaw from dropping at the princess’s beauty. Dark skin, flowing silver hair, finely chiseled features and the most striking blue eyes Keith had seen since… Well, since the sultan, quite generally. She was certainly adorned like royalty, gold bands and chains and jewels everywhere with silk flowing off her perfect body like the garments were made of water floating around her. 

Her voice was deeper than her companions, and more serious besides. “I have not, no,” she said without looking at her blonde companion. “I see no point in indulging in this game. You know how Lance gets when he finds someone pretty, I’m not going to invest myself in another situation that’s only going to end in tears.”

The other girl made a tisking noise in the back of her throat, following after the princess as she floated through the giant doorway. “That’s a little mean, Lady Allura!” 

“It isn’t if I’ve already seen it happen before,” was the cold response as they left Keith alone in his hiding place. “Don’t worry, Romelle, I can play nice for the inevitably  _ short _ time I need to.”

Allah above, that could only have been the sultana. Keith had just laid eyes on his master the sultan’s actual wife, and she had dismissed him as being about as important to her marriage as what to eat for dinner. When Keith was abandoned, would he be killed as well? What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

Noticing the sun was getting low, Keith found his way back to the prince’s... freaking  _ Sultan’s _ bedchamber for dinner. Hunk was once again missing from the room as Keith arrived, the king beaming at Keith when he stepped inside with apparently no mind to the fact that he’d been wandering about unsupervised for hours on end. 

“Hey Keith, did you find your way around all right?” he asked, cheerfully patting the cushion beside himself to beckon Keith to it. “I wanted to let you get used to the place for a few days, but since you’re already feeling up to it I’ll have someone show you around tomorrow and we can uh, start introducing you to the royal court and settling into life here.”

The idea was generous enough, but once again Keith just had the feeling that he was being trained into something and he didn’t like it. On the other hand, he still didn’t know the safest way to escape the palace unseen and the mysteriously altruistic reading lessons were too valuable to let slip that easily from his grasp. Whatever this guy’s game was, Keith was stuck playing along for now.

He sat down to join the king for dinner, which turned out to be the most amazingly rich soup Keith had ever felt on his lips. On second thought, maybe whatever game the sultan wanted to play would be worth it just for the food.

And the bed, Keith considered a half hour later after the king had asked him about his day while he snuffed out the first lanterns at the end of the meal. He had only meant to sit down on the bed but once again practically sunk straight into it instead, ignoring the king’s teasing grin as he joined him in the fluffy nest, drawing the curtain behind him.

“Alright, now where was I?” his highness started, slipping off his rings and putting them away fo the night. “So, the knight is learning that he has the power to influence the events of the town by taking up the role as Storyteller and writing about his friends. You remember this, or were you asleep?”

Keith thought about it, pretending not to sound too interested as he ventured, “This sounds right?”

Lance nodded, and settled into the bed. “Alright, so at this same time the little Duck had finally found the last shards of the prince’s shattered heart, sealed into each of the five gates of the town’s giant walls.” Keith tried not to notice how close they were sitting, tried to fall back into the story instead of concentrating on the proximity of a man he could not yet judge or trust… “But there was a catch to that. Those last five shards weren’t just keeping the town sealed closed and the Prince’s heart incomplete, they were also the last power holding back the Raven.”

Lance moved, sitting up on one hand supporting his weight on the bed while the other…

The other touched Keith. It went right to the small of his back, sending cold shivers of anxiety down his spine because there we go, this was it. The story telling had just been a distraction to get Keith off guard and in his bed, and as he felt those fingers slide ever so slowly down to his lower back Keith swung a leg around to pin his knee against the sultan’s neck, reaching down to the abandoned sash on the floor to snatch up the gilded dagger.

He had moved just enough weight off of the king’s neck to be countered, two hands scrambling to lift Keith’s calf as Lance yelped, “Sorry, my bad, my bad! Personal space, you totally don’t need to murder me I can respect your space!”

Keith hesitated, letting himself be shoved gently off to land on his butt on the bed. The king scooted quickly away with his hands up defensively, probably because Keith was still holding the knife. “If I start telling the story are you gonna attack me again?

Keith shook his head, but didn’t but didn’t drop his claim on the sheathed knife just yet. The bed was huge however, and the king found plenty of space to settle down far away from Keith and the weapon he should probably be beheaded for even holding.

“Okay,” the sultan started again. “Heart shards, heart shards… No, the five in the door weren’t the very last ones. There was one more, one last heart shard that needed to be found and returned so that when the Raven revived the Price would be whole again to face him. And Duck, poor brave little Duck who had worked and danced and loved so hard for the Prince, discovered it was the very pendant that gave her human form where the last piece of her prince’s heart hid…”

Keith was wrapped up in the story in just a few sentences, relaxing enough to at least set the knife down beside him instead of keeping it clutched in his hands. Guys in the pit had swapped all kinds of stories all the time but none of them had been like this, never these long complicated tales of heartbreak and horror and magic. A welcome change to the bawdy retellings of battles fought and women conquered he was so used to. Meant for children or not, these fairy tales were far more compelling to Keith’s interest.

It didn’t hurt that the sultan, Lance, was an excellent storyteller himself. He used different voices for each of the character’s different dialogue, all while keeping his tone light and easy to follow. He was so enthusiastic he made hand gestures along with everything he said, practically puppeteering the entire story with a show while he wove his tale into the deepening night. If Keith tried not to watch and turned towards the wall, then instead the single remaining lamp would cast light on the king to turn his display into shadow theatre instead, just as entrancing to watch with the hypnotic thrill of his words.

This time, Keith didn’t fall asleep before the end. But his king was so worn out he was yawning into every word, and Keith decided his excuse for stopping him and telling him to lay down and sleep was just because the pauses were ruining the drama.

His excuse for laying down as well was just because he was too comfortable to bother leaving to find a place to fall asleep by himself. He was already in a perfectly good bed, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

After that, the days started to follow a more predictable pattern. 

For one thing, he wasn’t allowed to sleep in later than the sultan anymore, which made perfect sense to him anyway and was not a thing he minded. They’d still have breakfast together in the king’s room with just the two of them, but as they split their bread and dined on the juiciest fruits Keith could even imagine Lance explained to him that from now on they’d both be having any other meals in the dining hall where they’d be surrounded by others.

So basically, the first two days of Keith being left alone had been intentional, and now he actually had duties to fulfill, huh? What the hell were a Consort’s duties besides servicing their king? Just like, looking good publicly, right?

Then what about the reading lessons that came again after breakfast? Was it that Keith needed to read and write, or was this just a bribe to keep Keith from acting up until they knew how to properly control him?

The dancing lessons, at least, made perfect sense. Keith met Nyma for the first time in the afternoon, flipping her golden braids over her shoulder as she assessed him with a single glance. “You’ve got a good body at least, but you look about as graceful as a mule. Well, I’ve worked with worse.”

The lessons, he soon discovered, were more rigorous and grueling than any combat training the ring had ever put him through. That suited Keith perfectly well, to be honest. Even just the two days he’d had of idleness hadn’t sat well with him, Keith was someone who needed to be ready for a fight at a moment’s notice and the lack of exercise had made his skin crawl.

The movements were all new to him as well, providing the new and unique challenge of needing to be aware not just of his movements themselves, but of how they looked and what sound would result from the precise jangling of his ankle bells at every step.

If he moved to fast or with too much force in his limbs Nyma would scold the resulting jingle of bells, trying to impart the importance of gentitly and grace in every tiny subtle movement. Turns out ‘gentility’ had not previously been a part of Keith’s vocabulary. 

Keith had never danced before that day, and had never expected to enjoy even being bad at it.

After that was his first meal down in the hall where everyone dined together, not just the sultan and his mysterious wife Allura but a huge gathering of courtiers as well, all sitting around a long table practically the length of the entire hall. It made sense considering the way the palace was built, all huge open doorways so wide every room was practically one with the next. The entire design seemed to encourage free wandering around… as well as being the main reason Keith couldn’t find an unseen path to sneak around the grounds yet.

The sultan was on one end of the huge table, Allura sitting on his right hand and Keith seated on a cushion on his left. From there a huge array continued on either direction, Coran to Allura’s right and the person directly on Keith’s own left side being small and possibly female (though it was hard to say through their blonde conspicuous foreignness.) 

“I’m Pidge,” they eventually introduced in a voice that Keith decided was probably female after all. “And despite my looks, I am the Sultan’s royal vizier. Nice to meet you.”

Keith hesitantly gave his name back, eyes still scanning the crowd to try and judge out any threats. He wasn’t used to eating three times a day anyway, and didn’t prove to have much of an appetite for lunch, no matter how delicious the buffet he picked idly at proved to be.

“That guy,” the vizier said over his shoulder, discreetly pointing her thumb at a bearded man picking at a bowl of dates near where Keith had been glaring suspiciously. “That’s Throk. He’s gonna try and act all sweet on you since you’re close to the sultan, but he poisoned the last guy who had his job and can only be trusted about as far as I could throw him.”

Well, now that was interesting. Keith turned back to the little blonde advisor, one eyebrow raised. “Good to know,” he said, letting his tone show his intrigue. 

She met his eyes, and something mutual and lightly cynical was communicated between them in a silent flash. This was someone who knew the value of trust. 

Pidge went on like that, quietly pointing out the people around the table Keith needed to be most wary of. Keith slipped a knife he’d been using to spread jam onto his bread into his pants, almost relieved to know this place was finally revealing itself to be real and not the paradise it presented itself as.

The tables were cleared of food but no one left, and Keith found out that this was also the same table where everyone conducted court business. That explained why everyone was here at once, he guessed, although he wasn’t sure what he himself was there for. Decoration, he supposed? There were some pretty girls at the table that Keith didn’t know the purpose of, perhaps some of them were courtesans, too. The servants who served wine all seemed to be beautiful, decorated in the same gold chains and bracelets Keith himself had been given. The sultan must have a penchant for keeping pretty things around him, he supposed.

Wait, did that make Keith “something pretty?” Weird.

The talks lasted all the way till evening when the sun set, negations and plans turning into arguments with the joined application of time and wine. Dinner was brought and the lamps lit, scented oil and fresh food filling the hall to cover the smell of sweaty politicians and lightening everyone’s mood for it.

Keith had been watching the talks but not following a word of it, his attention on basically the entirety of the room. When dinner was set down though, the sultan turned to face Keith at last, beaming at him tiredly and apologizing, “You’re gonna have to sit through a lot of boring stuff like this, it kind of comes with the lifestyle.”

It was, Keith thought to himself, rather a handsome smile. Honest-looking, he realized. That’s what he liked about it. And that was what was so dangerous about it, as well.

Dinner was the last use of the dining hall, everyone getting up as soon as their meals were finished to stretch their legs and spend the coolest part of the evening on their own purposes. 

Not knowing what else he might do, Keith waited by the sultan’s side for the rest of the night. They too got up once the meal was cleared, walking around the palace’s huge grounds with two royal guards trailing behind and Pidge and Allura at the king’s sides, continuing to discuss affairs of the country that Keith didn’t understand but did at least recognized to be important. Huh, this guy sure worked hard for someone who seemed like such an eccentric goof-off.

When it was time to go to bed, Keith had already forgotten what his purpose here was and that now was the time to worry about the… specifics of his duties. He followed Lance straight into the bed, sinking comfortably into the cushions and silks as the king took off his jewelry like he did every night.

“Now, where did we leave off last night? I think I was almost at the end, but I don’t remember falling asleep…”

“Just start at the last part you remember,” Keith said, not even noticing the soft smile already curling at the corner of his lips.

“Okay…” his king began, even though Keith could already hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I think the Raven had just eaten his own daughter…”

Keith didn’t even remember the knife strapped to his ankle until the middle of the night, when he woke up to the sultan yelping in pain, kicking him, and tossing the knife off the side of the bed with an irritated grumble.

—

The strangest part was how easy it was to get used to a complete upheaval of his entire life. It probably had something to do with the fact that not very much was actually being demanded of him compared to before, to the point where Keith was beginning to consider this gig might be worth sticking around for even once the sultan was done playing games and ready to claim Keith’s body. Okay, obviously no, Keith was still keeping up plans to escape that were actually starting to look feasible, but either way. The palace was so different from his last life it was like he wasn’t even in reality anymore, like he’d gone into a coma and slipped into a nice dream about delicious food and sweet smells and handsome princes who didn’t even try and molest him. 

Okay that wasn’t entirely true. If this were a dream, then the Etiquette Lessons with lady Romelle would not be a part of it. The etiquette lessons SUCKED, and he didn’t understand them, and he never did anything right and very very quickly stopped trying to which only made Romelle even more irritated at him. But in his defence, who sat at the table in what order and what titles he used for who was probably the dumbest thing anyone had ever tried to convince him was important. 

Also, he might have tailored his own wardrobe in such a fashion that every single outfit didn’t show off his belly, or come with all kinds of sewn-in sparkly bits that jangled when he walked or moved his hips too fast. But at least all the pants were loose and comfortable, even if half of them had slits that ran down from the hips to the knees and the other half were cut to show off his calves instead; considering the alternative was probably silk skirts and loincloths Keith considered himself lucky. He was damn near fully clothed compared to Nyma. 

Coran’s reading lessons were a continued challenge, what with the man teaching Keith using historical texts instead of anything that was actually easy to comprehend, and then quizzing him on both subjects at the same time and expecting Keith to have any idea what was going on whatsoever. It was the kind of challenge that he thrived on, fortunately, and he’d like to think he was excelling at the same rate he was in learning to dance. Which was “Adequate.”

Also, he and Hunk got to make fun of the scholar behind his back once the lessons were over and Coran left the two of them alone again.

He was getting, ah. Supplementary reading lessons, at night. Those being in the form of him and Lance crowded around his giant book of fairy tales every evening in bed, Lance reading aloud while Keith pretended to follow along with the text while he really drifted off to the sound of his king’s voice. Look, it was a really nice bed and Lance had a really nice voice and at the end of the day both of them were really really tired, it was… nice, sharing that moment of stillness with Lance every night.

Keith was still far from allowing himself to get complacent. He still kept himself armed with a bread knife strapped to his ankle, and even occasionally got paranoid and accidentally attacked Lance with it without having it confiscated like it probably should have been. To be fair, if the stupid sultan would stop touching and sneaking up on Keith he’d stop reacting with a knife to his throat, so. Who’s REALLY to blame, eh?

He was keeping himself alert at all of the afternoon council meetings as well. He hadn’t had much time to get to know the vizier yet but so far she was the one person in the entire palace that seemed to have the most common sense, and the very first thing she’d done when they met was warn him about the people at that very table. He wasn’t keen on letting his guard down around them.

As a result of actually paying attention, something rather surprising came to his notice. 

“That’s not a good use of the money,” the sultan said firmly, his expression falling between stony and exasperated. “Olkarion may be our allies, but they’re not suffering right now and they don’t need their palms greased. I’ve been trying to get that school built for the towns on the other side of the valley for a year now, and we finally have the resources to get it done.”

Lance, it seemed, was not only a king who worked hard, but even more shocking was that he worked hard _ for his people and his kingdom _ . He was truly and genuinely trying to help, which in Keith’s experience was not a thing politicians or people in power actually bothered with. Was it because he was still young and naive? Was it Allura’s influence? Was he just a genuinely kind person? Keith was going to drive himself mad trying to figure this guy out.

That was the other thing that was stopping him from going through with his plans to escape. Right now, Keith had unlimited access to food and information he’d never in his life be granted with again, and he needed to take advantage of it. And now alongside that, the man who had paid a fortune to bring Keith home with him and into his own bed was a mystery that he couldn’t let go unsolved.

—

“Hey,” Lance whispered to Keith one morning at breakfast, side-eyeing Hunk and the servant standing ready in the corner. “After your reading lesson, when Pidge is supposed to be lecturing me on today’s guest dignitaries? You and I should totally ditch out and do something fun for once.”

Keith blinked in surprise, glancing over at his king. “Fun?”

The sultan made a desperate ‘pipe down’ gesture with his hand, looking at Hunk like the other man would spoil their plans. “You in or not?”

He’d be skipping etiquette lessons, which sounded just fine to Keith. “Lady Romelle will be mad at me,” he said back in a low voice. “She’s already annoyed that I gave up on listening-” 

He paused to let the king laugh, a little mumble of “Yeah I know it’s so great, you just won’t let anyone change you,” interrupting his thought. 

“Can I get in trouble?” Keith finally finished, not eager to find out what kind of punishments this place was capable of.

“I’m the Sultan,” Lance said confidently. “Who’s gonna do shit about it?”

Which, that was a good point, so yeah of course Keith was in.

Two hours later Lance showed up to sweep Keith away as he’d promised, sneaking a barely-covert trail down to the gardens. 

As Keith had established there was hardly anywhere in the palace that wouldn’t be occupied, meaning the task of not being seen and therefore talked to quickly devolved into a game of hide-and-seek in itself. Crouching low under walls, ducking behind trees and pillars to hide from passing guards, potentially giggling side by side as they both dove into a pile of silks to avoid being seen by the laundress, hearts pounding in excitement.

It turns out ‘fun’ was doing something reckless and knowing the consequences for being caught were only a harsh scolding or a slap to the hand and not imminent death. He could get used to that.

They finally made their way down through the gardens to reach a large fountain and wading pool, beautiful and spacious enough that Keith was legitimately confused at the privacy before remembering he was with the Actual Sultan and he probably had plenty of royal personal space where he wouldn’t be walked in on. Granted, they still had to make sure no servants or guards knew they’d be there, because Keith had been here for all of two weeks and already knew the sultan was never supposed to be alone and vulnerable. Not unless Lance actively worked to ditch them.

Even the king’s bedroom always had at least one sentry just outside the door, so now that Keith thought about it he wasn’t really surprised Lance would take to sneaking off by himself to get away from the oppressive eye of constant guardianship.

Something about that thought triggered something deep inside Keith, like a memory of his past that he couldn’t quite recall. He started to search through his brain for a clue of what the deja vu had been triggered by, some distant figure in his life that must have cared about Keith’s wellbeing… but Lance was whooping and jumping into the water and the train of thought was gone instantly.

Keith let it go. It was achingly hot out today, and the water looked so clean and blue against the bright sky that he couldn’t resist slipping his bare feet into the pool.

As soon as he stepped in the king was kicking a wave of water to splash up in Keith’s face, laughing triumphantly as his front was effectively soaked. As it would hardly do to let his royal highness think he had one-upped him, Keith swept a leg out to knock his ankles out from under him, feeling a laugh choke out of his throat at Lance’s surprised face as his back hit the water. It just devolved from there. Keith and the Sultan of all Altea, wrestling in a shallow pool and trying to dunk each other’s faces into the water, like children with all the world at their feet.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they were satisfied, rolling over to sit in the water and try and rub the droplets out of their eyes enough to see straight again. The cool water felt heavenly against Keith’s heated skin, still not used to long hours of direct sunlight after his years in the pit. 

He glanced over at the king again, thinking his continued silence was a bit unusual. The sun was catching and bouncing off every drop of water to make his bronze skin glow under the light, handsome face drawn into a serene half-smile as he leaned back to soak up the sunshine like a cat. His clothes were heavy with wetness and clinging to his skin, showing off the hard lines and lean angles of his body that Keith only realized he was staring at when he noticed he couldn’t remember the last thing he’d been thinking about.

“Man, it’s so nice to get out of there for a while,” Lance sighed. “I mean I love Hunk like a brother don’t get me wrong, but. It’s hard to pretend all those guards and whatnot aren’t there and really relax when you know you’re never alone, you know?”

Keith nodded, already uncomfortable with the constant observation even after having slept in what essentially amounted to a giant pit with sixty other men. There was a special kind of discomfort that the armed guards provided, a far more troubling knowledge that someone's vigilant eyes were following you.

“Is Hunk the head of the palace guard, or just your personal protector?” Keith asked, having never quite figured out who was in charge of security.

Lance took his time to answer, swiping a hand through his short hair to push the wet strands back out of his face. “He’s mine,” he said eventually. “His dad is the head of the palace guard though, so you’re not way off.”

Keith wrung the water out of his own significantly longer black hair. “He took after his father, huh.” What a nice idea. Keith thought he might be able to remember his father’s face, but his occupation and personality were still far out of memory’s reach.

Lance wasn’t smiling anymore. “No…” He answered eventually. “It’s just how we met. He was the only other kid around for me to play with when we were little.”

There was a curious weight behind the words, and Keith made sure his body language reflected that Lance had his full attention. Eye contact and everything, like a real boy.

Lance sighed, idly splashing at the waters with his feet. “He, uh. Hunk actually wanted to be the palace chef when we were growing up, but he ended up changing his mind. It’s kinda my fault, but also like, not really?”

Frustrated, Lance scratched at the back of his head, breaking the eye contact with Keith to frown into the pool. “So, until Allura has any kids, I’m the last heir to my father. And I’ve got a ton of uncles and cousins, which means if I’m out of the picture any one of them can start up some kind of succession war to claim the kingdom, right?”

“Yeah.” Keith followed that easily enough, acknowledging it as the reason the king was never supposed to be without guard. 

Lance nodded. “Well, aside from a few attacks that never went anywhere, when we were younger there was an attempt on my life. Nothing dramatic, just poison, but…” He looked… oddly ashamed, as though the assassination attempt had been his own fault merely for existing. “Hunk and Allura both had to watch me get really really sick, and for a while no one knew if I was gonna get better at all. They said… they said I almost died, and as soon as I got better Hunk went to his dad and asked to join in training for the Guard. He, um.” Lance swallowed thickly, emotion caught in his throat that made an unfamiliar surge of empathy well up in Keith and make him want to reach out and… He didn’t know. Pat Lance on the back, maybe? “He said that he wasn’t gonna sit back and watch me die again if there was anyway he could prevent it, so he joined the palace guard. Just to protect me.”

The sheer amount of… genuine kindness and empathy expressed in that story was so foreign to Keith it was almost overwhelming. Hunk loved his friend so much he changed the course of his life to protect him, and Lance loved Hunk back enough to understand and be heartbroken for his choices. Neither wanted to see the other get hurt.

Keith had lived in a closed space with half a hundred other men, and never managed to get close to any of them. He had seen friendships of course, seen men bond and some even fall in love, only for a single round with a lion or a bad swing of the sword to end an entire life in a moment. And he’d seen what happens to the one who gets left behind, time and time again, watched the way the men were even more miserable and broken than before they’d held that brief light of companionship. Keith had never figured that feeling of loss was worth the trouble of opening up, but… At the same time, whom or what was the last thing Keith could say he really, truly cared for?

The expression Lance had on his face when he looked back at Keith now was heavy, but still smiling. The look of someone who had had their heart broken enough times to expect it by now, but still had enough hope to try again anyway. The openness, the vulnerability he let slip with that look… It was absolutely terrifying to Keith. Not what he might see of the king, no… What Keith was afraid of was the way it made him want to open up in return.

Keith wanted to believe in Lance. Every instinct and two decades of personal experience screamed at him not to, but Lance had an openness about him that made Keith want to put his faith in him. Made him want to believe he really was as kindhearted and hardworking as he seemed. Keith wasn’t used to trusting people, and he didn’t know what to do with the bizarre inkling constantly nibbling on the back of his mind that maybe, just this one time, everything would actually turn out for the better.

Which meant now Keith was afraid to trust himself. Things that seemed too good to be true usually  _ were _ . 

“But you two are still friends, right?” he asked, in an effort to change the current mood and clear his mind. “Just because it's his job to watch you now doesn’t mean you and Hunk stopped talking.”

“Yeah,” the king chuckled back, reclining in the water. “There’s no one I talk to more, if we don’t count politics and work talk.” A pause. “Well, although if we count story time before bed now it’s actually you I talk to the most, nowadays.”

The sun sure was hot today, wasn’t it? GOODNESS, Keith’s face had never felt so flushed from the heat before. “That can’t count,” he said back. “‘Cause being with you is still work for  _ me _ .”

His companion snorted out a bark of laughter, and shoved Keith’s face down into the pool to try and dunk his face in the water. Being less skilled in hand to hand than Keith, he was in seconds pinned to the bottom of the fountain and choking up bubbles until Keith remembered he wasn’t actually trying to kill him. For some reason, Lance’s gasps of air when he came up were interspersed by coughs of harsh laughter, like Keith’s habit of accidental murder attempts were the best part of his entire day.

—

They brought a jar of wine up to the room with them after dinner, to share before bed.

That night, the story Lance was trying to read got derailed by the two of them making stupid jokes about bargain princesses for sale, and they ended up improvising a new made-up ending in between drunken giggles and absurd innuendoes. 

When they fell asleep, they were side by side on the king’s gigantic bed, heads so close they had to share one pillow.


	3. Chapter 3

—

The king of Daibazaal was someone Keith had seen before, but only in the distance of his balcony overlooking the colosseum. Watching the slaves and prisoners fight each other to the death had been one of his favorite pastimes, and the arena Keith had lived in for a decade had been built specifically for his entertainment. 

So when Keith heard that the king would be visiting this Altean palace to discuss the status of their alignment, the first thought he had was to wonder if Keith had been in the ring in front of him often enough for his particular small and battle-scarred body to be recognized. His still being so pale made him stand out in the crowd of dark Alteans, after all.

But then Keith remembered he was a concubine and even if he WAS recognized, it wouldn’t be enough for the king to acknowledge or care, so. It was still kind of creepy to know he’d be showing up, and that at dinner Keith would be stuck with him at the same table and probably even look him in the eye. Oh no wait, Romelle said Keith wasn’t supposed to look noblemen in the eye because he was beneath them… Eh, when did he ever listen to her anyway.

Still, the point was that Keith was not looking forward to this. The memories of that place, those days in captivity, were still too fresh and too strong, and he wasn’t eager to relive them when he heard the familiar voice of Zarkon’s herald announcing his royal arrival.

Altea and Daibazaal were allies, Keith reminded himself as the Galran people filtered loudly into the palace. These people were here as friends, and Keith was not allowed to punch or insult any of the foreign dignitaries the king was bringing with him, or something ridiculous like war could happen because Zarkon was a total dickhead and could not be counted on to be reasonable.

For a dickhead, he was pretty friendly and cheerful, even if in a stoic warlord-y sort of way. Coran was glad to see him, oddly enough, and Pidge whispered an explanation that Lance’s father the late Sultan had been old friends with Zarkon for decades. Keith had lived in his country his entire life and killed for his personal amusement, but sure, yeah, he was TOTALLY a stand-up guy. Whatever, Keith could keep his mouth shut. Politics were all about keeping your murderous rage hidden, right?

Fortunately, the exact KIND of friendly and social King Zarkon was being meant that no, he didn’t have to hold it in. Not all night, at least.

“My armies are the best because my warriors are the best,” Zarkon boasted after dinner, when the sun was already gone and everyone was drowning in wine. “I have hand-selected the finest men in all the kingdoms. The two strongest I even made my own personal guards.” He gestured behind him, to a towering and scar-faced man Keith found uncomfortably familiar. “Well - one of them is here, the new guy I left home with Honerva and the little one.” 

“Can’t leave your family unprotected,” Lance agreed, eyeing up the giant looming behind Zarkon. “This guy is the best you could find, huh? No offence, but he looks kinda… slow.”

The giant looked insulted but his king only laughed. “Sendak is neither slow-footed nor dull-witted, my young friend.” He raised his wine goblet, turning to address the room at large. “Perhaps we should give you a demonstration! My man here against anyone of your choosing! You’ve got some fine guardians here yourself, I might like to see one put to the test.”

The room full of drunk diplomats, guards, and slaves alike all cheered with enthusiasm. Lance just smiled into his own wine, first glancing at Hunk before turning his attention to Keith.

“Well?” Lance asked, looking Keith directly in the eye. “You up for fighting this guy, or should I send in Hunk instead of asking that kind of thing from you?”

Keith blinked in surprise, jaw almost dropping. Had the sultan just… asked Keith what he wanted? Was he seriously taking Keith’s opinion into consideration on this? On anything? Why… why was he giving him a choice like this? Slaves didn’t get choices. Concubines didn’t get to say, ‘No, I’d rather not do it.’ That just… wasn’t how this WORKED.

“You know,” Lance said hesitantly after Keith failed to answer, in a voice low enough for only Keith to hear. “With your um, history and all I’d hate to force you into fighting again if you don’t want to. Trauma or whatever.”

“I don’t mind,” Keith found himself mumbling back. He cleared his throat, shaking off the surprise to rise to his feet and look directly at Sendak. Fighting was the only thing he knew he could do  _ right _ , after all. “I can take him.”

Lance laughed, leaning back on his cushions lazily. “Weapons or no?” He called over to Zarkon.

With one eyebrow dramatically raised, Zarkon answered. “I’ll have to say weapons. I don’t think it’d be a fair fight to your little harem boy there without them.”

Sendak smirked, but so did Keith. He must not recognize a Keith who partook in regular bathing. Yeah, Sendak was gonna remember him  _ real _ soon. They’d never been pitted against each other officially in the ring, but the two of them had a history of altercations back in their shared days in the Pit.

Lance untied the dagger sheath from his belt, tossing it to Keith. He caught it of course, keeping his eyes on Sendak still as the servants and partygoers scurried to clear out a space big enough in the giant hall for them to fight unimpeded.

The musicians in the back continued playing their drums and ouds, setting up a rhythm Keith had grown familiar with over the course of his dance lessons. It was a nice distraction from the drunken ramblings of the crowd Keith was already accustomed to from the coliseum, and the wine he’d partaken in had left him feeling loose and light-footed. Keith had fought Sendak before and had practically gotten himself mangled, but tonight? Keith just felt like there was no way in hell he could lose.

Maybe because for the first time, Keith had been given a choice. He liked choices, it turned out.

The two of them stepped into the makeshift ring, their eyes locked as they circled to get a gauge of how many footsteps wide their space to fight was. The crowd was riling up for a show, and Sendak was stretching and wiggling the clawed fingers of his giant golden gauntlet as Keith unsheathed his master’s knife.

Sendak was still smirking like this was all game and not a real fight, and that was Keith’s reminder that this wasn’t the arena anymore. He was used to being underestimated by opponents for his size and pretty face, but this was on a whole new level. Like Zarkon had said, he wasn’t a warrior anymore. He was a  _ harem boy _ .

Keith’s foot, he noticed, was twitching subtly to the beat of the song. Nyma had beat his lessons into him well, it seemed, but his body’s unconscious desire to follow the drum beat gave him an idea that set Keith’s lips into a smug curl. These jack-offs were gonna have no idea what even happened tonight when Keith was done here.

Instead of ignoring it, Keith embraced the music. As he and Sendak circled near each other in the ring Keith fluttered his eyelashes the way Nyma had taught him and added a rhythmic sway to his hips, moving up onto the balls of his feet to turn the stalking steps he usually moved in into the delicate arc of a dance. 

The audiences cheers turned into whoops, and Sendak’s face crinkled into confused disgust. Exactly as Keith had expected he would the warrior dove into an attack before he had bothered to get a proper read on Keith, swiping his giant fist into the general direction Keith had used to be.

He wasn’t all that slow, but Keith had already moved out of the way before Sendak himself had been sure he was going to attack, so dodging had been as easy as a basic travelling step, adding a little shimmy of his hips at the end while Sendak stumbled just to get a laugh out of the audience. 

“Very funny,” Sendak scowled, turning back on Keith in time to see him twirl the dagger in an elegant arc that was one hundred percent just to show off the way the lamplights flashed on the silver blade and not in any way useful as a fighting move. “You wanna dance, pretty boy? Try it when I’ve broken your legs off.”

Attacking with that left arm of his was obviously his main attack, so Sendak’s next move wasn’t any harder to avoid. In fact, so sure was he that he could get out of the way in time, Keith waited the extra half second past what his instincts told him to only move to avoid Sendak’s golden fist on the next downbeat of the song. He leaned backwards into a dip at the same time the drum pounded, just late enough into the attack to make Sendak overbalance and topple to the ground in a pile of humiliated rage at Keith’s bejeweled feet.

That was probably the last time Keith was gonna get away with that. From the look on his enemy’s face as he rose up like a tower, Sendak was done playing. Keith maybe a little dancing concubine, but Sendak had survived a hundred battles to the death to earn his pardon. Both of them knew how much this man was really capable of.

Keith flipped the dagger in his hand into a defensive stance, knowing the next attack wasn’t going to come until his opponent was too close for Keith to get out of the way for. The clang of metal on metal rang as Sendak’s claws met the steel of Keith’s dagger, the two of them exchanging blows one by one as each man threw their weight into trying to get through the other’s guard.

It was the sound of that metal on metal that gave him away. The ring of their fight was still matching the rhythm of the song in perfect tune, and Sendak’s face split into rage as he realized that could only be if Keith was the one controlling the pace of the fight. He was twice Keith’s size, and still being led around like a reigned pony.

Until Sendak pulled back to kick Keith, a hard blow that had been truly unexpected landing square in the middle of his stomach. Keith bowled over, rolling out of the way of another strike of oversized gauntlet just in time to spit up unto the floor.

Sendak’s laughter would have stung more if it hadn’t given Keith time to shake the blow off and roll back onto his feet. Even more so, it meant that Sendak hadn't expected Keith to recover as quickly as he did, and thus certainly hadn’t expected Keith to jump into a spin kick towards his face the instant he was on his feet again.

His foot hit high on Sendak’s shoulder, and Keith bounced off in time to catch the beat of the song again. He moved with it before his body could tell him otherwise, starting back into a less flourished and more purposeful version of his dance. Not as a distraction or humiliation - just because he had had three months of daily training and his body had learned how to move with the music in a way that felt natural, and was surprisingly conservative of his stamina.

The musicians had noticed their influence on Keith, and accordingly sped up the song. The rhythm grew louder and wilder, moving from background noise for a party to a song worthy to conduct a dance of death to, harsh whines of the violin-like rebabs battling high flute whistles while Keith’s feet and hands and knife all followed the intense pounding of the drums.

Knowing he couldn’t win just by dodging, Keith tried to go on the offensive. But that damned gauntlet was about as big as Keith’s torso was and Sendak could block everything Keith threw at him without taking a scratch, the battle at a standstill even as neither man stopped attacking for a moment.

It was Keith who fucked up, his impatience to take back control of the fight causing him to launch an attack that was a little to reckless. Sendak caught his dagger in his metal-clad fist, fingers wrapping around the blade to yank it out of Keith’s hand. 

He stumbled, and Sendak’s giant hand was wrapping around Keith’s neck in an instant, picking Keith up off the ground by the throat and then hurling him to land in a hard pile on the ground a few feet away.

Sendak was leaping, throwing his body weight into an impossible jump to follow Keith over to where he’d tossed him. Keith only just managed to roll out of the way of the gold claws that cracked into the hard tile beneath them. He scrambled to his knees, finding himself in between Sendak’s legs as the giant man twisted around to try and grab Keith off the floor.

And that’s when Keith drove the breadknife he kept tucked into his pants straight into Sendak’s ankle, deep enough for the tip of the blade to stick out the other side and drip a blood trail onto the tiles.

Sendak howled and toppled down to clutch at his his leg. Keith didn’t wait for him to lash out in his agony, already drawing his foot back to kick his heel into the vulnerable joint of Senak’s left elbow, all the force of his dancer/warrior thighs going down hard enough to snap tendons in the same instant of the song’s crescendo.

Okay, true, the part where Keith stood on his neck was probably overkill. But he was used to the best battles being the best shows, and everyone was lucky he remembered that cutting Sendak’s head off and raising it in triumph was not an acceptable end to the fight in this particular circumstance.

“Little jumping jackrabbit bitch,” Sendak hissed up at Keith. “I can’t believe someone thought you were worth buying. Arena should have chewed you up and spat you out.”

Keith smiled, increasing the pressure of his foot on Sendak’s neck. “I was wondering if you’d ever recognize me.”

Zarkon stood up, raising one hand and calling out, “Well done! A good show, both of you, I hadn’t expected such a spectacle outside of a coliseum!”

The audience cheered a drunken uproar, and Keith stepped off of Sendak to recollect the dagger Lance had loaned him while two servants rushed in to the injured giant’s side. And, knowing the value of theatrics in this environment, knelt to the ground and bowed his head when he offered the dagger back. Keith had just made the both of them look good with that exhibition fight, there was no reason to spoil that now, right?

Lance retrieved the dagger, thanking Keith for his service… and then hauling him up by the arm to set him back on his designated cushion, toppling Keith halfway into his lap in the process.

Before Keith could sit upright again Lance was swinging an arm around Keith’s shoulder, pulling him in close enough to whisper into his ear. “Thank you, Keith, that was amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

A shiver ran down Keith’s spine, his eyes fluttering closed as his cheeks heated into a blush. Oh.. oh dear. He did not think that anyone had ever said something like that to him before. 

He found himself melting into Lance’s side, only barely seated on his own pillows in favor of leaning his weight into his sultan’s, head rested lazily on his shoulder. Keith was slowly draining of adrenaline from the fight, heart still pounding and head swimming and he felt so good that he just wanted to curl up into the most comfortable thing in the room and bask in this strange glow of pride being praised as good had given him. And as it happened, Lance was the most comfortable thing in the room right now.

And… Keith wasn’t sure what it was, but the way strange eyes lingered on the way Lance’s arm wrapped around Keith’s back to hold him close as the party continued filled Keith with an odd sense of satisfaction. That’s right, he  _ was _ the sultan’s favorite. Hadn’t they all just watched Keith earn his place with their own eyes?

“I’m impressed,” Zarkon admitted as Keith swiped a wine jug off the table. “But in my congratulations I must ask, where in the seven kingdoms did you find such a gem?”

Lance laughed, and the way his chest shook vibrated under Keith’s head. “Why, I stole him from right under your nose, my Lord. Bought him from your own fighting arena not four moons ago, and they didn’t even ask for half of what he’s worth.”

Zarkon’s eyebrows shot up, eyes zooming in on Keith. Keith just smiled lazily and wiggled his fingers in a little wave, still preening into Lance’s side as the king pet his hair.

Zarkon belted out a laugh. “Hiding an assassin in your harem! You Alteans are even trickier than rumors say. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, young Sultan.”

“That leaves us equal, then,” Lance smiled back. “As I’ve already been assured how important it is to keep two eyes on you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is like half a chapter at best but it's been a VERY long time since i could write so. i'm just posting whatever i can do whenever i can do it.

“WRONG,” Nyma yawned, kicking at Keith’s ankles. Trying so hard to maintain his delicate pose as he was, Keith wobbled and tripped a stupid little dance over his own feet trying not to fall onto the floor. “Head slides are an ISOLATION! I can see your toes twitching and your face straining, you need to learn control!”

Nyma had, Keith had been quickly learning, been at Zarkon’s little party to witness his match with Sendak, and had thusly decided she had been taking his lessons too easy on him if he was confident enough to show off like that. Every day of dance training since had been twice as long and three times as strict, no longer an effort to teach him the very basics of movement in favor of drilling absolute perfection into him. 

She was ruthless and her teaching style borderlined on abusive. Keith was pretty sure they were best friends.

“Nyma my love~!” A new voice crooned, somehow sounding young and smoke-rasped at the same time. “I haven’t seen you in so long, how did you get even more beautiful?”

Instead of the reaction Keith might have expected, Nyma cackled in delight and threw herself into the blond man’s arms. “Mattie~! I haven’t seen you in ages, you’ve been so busy!”

Boy Pidge or Tall Pidge or Future Pidge or whoever this was caught her with a laugh, stumbling a little to stay upright. “Altunia’s entire family caught pneumonia, I haven’t had any spare time in between keeping eight people alive.”

“Is pneumonia contagious?” Keith asked, a bit worried but mostly confused.

“Nope. But stupidity is genetic,” the blonde shrugged, Nyma giggling at his side. “You’re Keith, if I’m not mistaken? I’m Matt Holt, the palace’s head physician.”

Head physician? The doctors who’d worked in the ring had been barely-educated hacks who’s job had been less healing the injured than wringing as many matches out of a broken body as possible. An actual professional  _ physician  _ who could cure a whole family of sickness might as well be a wizard to Keith. “So then, are you the one that treat me that first morning I got here? I didn't even notice anyone was there, I just woke up cleaned and bandaged.”

Matt laughed. “Yeah, you were pretty out of it! You were passed out so hard I had to peel your eyes open because I was a little scared you were in a coma, no reaction to being sewn up whatsoever. Be careful not to push yourself that hard again, okay ? I don’t think we can afford to lose the sultan’s new favorite, he gets depressed and so does the economy.”

“S-sorry,” Keith blinked awkwardly. “I was under a lot of um. Stress.”

Nyma laughed, draping herself around Matt’s shoulders. “See, he’s pretty cute, right? The things he says just makes you wanna pick on him.”

Matt’s arm slipped around her waist, and in mock offence he cried, “Do I need to be jealous?”

“Like my hands aren’t already full with the two boys I have already,” she cooed back, reaching up to tweak his nose.

Well this wasn’t weird at all. “Is uh, the dance lesson still in session or do you two need more time to flirt..?”

Nyma just rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist at him with a dismissive jangle of gold. “You can keep practicing while I catch up with my cutest boyfriend, I don’t need to watch every second.”

Figuring that was fair, Keith shrugged and raised his arms back into position, set to ignore them. 

“So, did you get back just in time for the party tonight?”

“Which party?”

“You know, the only GOOD one, darling! Underground, in the wine cellars, ring any bells~?”

“Oh shit, the servant’s party is tonight? Fuck me, no one ever tells me when it is!”

“Of course they don’t, your job is too well-paying,” Nyma laughed. “By their standards, they only even invite me because I’m the life of the party.”

“Because you get wasted and dance on tables, you mean.”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it? Life of the party!”

Matt turned over to Keith, giving him a glance up and down as he slid his feet across the smooth tiles of the floor. “We should totally bring him with, too. He looks like he’d be a really cute drunk, I bet he’ll try and pick fights.”

“Oh my god YES,” Nyma agreed with inappropriate delight. “I’ve never seen him drunk before that sound like so much fun!”

“Um,” Keith finally cut in. “Do I get to have an opinion on whether or not I go get drunk in a basement tonight?”

Matt and Nyma exchanged glances. 

“No,” they answered firmly.

Well alright then.

The sultan was already used to Keith slipping off and disappearing for a few hours around dinner every night, as it was the best time to skulk around without anyone noticing or caring where he was. He had considered slinking into the night this time as well, but Nyma wasn’t just someone he saw everyday she was also a constant force to reckoned with, and would take out her displeasure on him in their dance lessons the next day for sure. Bitch was the best at what she did, but it meant she was  _ brutal _ .

There was a cellar deep in the servant’s quarters that wasn’t on any official records, unknown to all but the staff who lived there. And in this secret cellar was not just the location of this and many other parties and gathering the servants may hold at night, but also the more constant home of all the liquor and dried fruits anyone could smuggle borrow or buy, all kept hidden safely from more well-paid eyes for the sake of fueling said parties.

This one in particular, Keith had explained to him by Nyma’s second boyfriend Rolo when he sat down near the other man at a low table lit with sparse lanterns, was the best party of the year. The one where they all pool together and then collectively drank every drop of alcohol they had stored up, letting loose and getting rowdy like no other night.

Keith had had alcohol before tonight, had it smuggled into the arena’s quarters on odd occasions back in his increasingly-distant old life. In his experience, it meant a few fist fights would break out. He uh… didn’t know what happened when both liquor AND women were involved, but it seemed like something to be scared of.

The cellar was full of tables that were already filled with people and food and liquor, and the rest of the room was much the same. The crowd was a bit like the arena underground, and even though Keith was most comfortable by himself where was something about the huge throng of people paying absolutely no attention to him had him at its own sort of ease. It was familiar.

So when Nyma hands him a cup full of something that didn’t look like wine and smelled like a sewer, Keith accepted. It was like coming home. All the liquor in the arena smelled just like this.

There were dozens more people he was introduced to that night after Rolo, though most of them he’d never remember the names of after tonight. Klaizap and Plaxum and Coleen and Kinkade, and other people who probably had jobs and lives and shit that Keith would never truly know about. He tried to learn as many as he could, at least before he remembered he didn’t plan on living here long enough for it to matter.

It wouldn’t hurt to try and have fun while he was here, though, so Keith indulged. In the drinks Nyma handed him, and in the people. He’d never been good at making friend or like… getting along with anyone, but back in his old life it didn’t matter because anyone he made friends with could be dead the next day. This was… different. This was something way more impactful than that. Everyone’s presumably inevitable survival made it all more real and less at the same time.

Everyone here would still be alive this time tomorrow. What a strange thing that was. It deserved to be celebrated though, that was for sure. 

“A toast!” Someone was shouting, fairly early on before everyone was too drunk to make a coherent toast yet. Drunk enough for there to be a pause, before they continue, “Who should we toast?”

Next to Keith, Nyma laughed. “How about we toast the king?”

“To the Sultan!” Someone agreed, “Because any other ruler wouldn't keep turning a blind eye to this fucking party every year!”

The entire crowd rallied at that, laughing and cheering and raising their glasses in agreement. “To the Sultan!” Another voice declared. “For always letting us steal the wine for it, too!”

More laughter, another round of cheers. “To the King,” someone much closer said next, and Keith craned his head to barely see a woman with vacant blind eyes, “For giving me this freaking job in the first place!”

“For paying enough to feed my whole family!”

“For never let my masters beat me no matter how many things I break!”

Keith watched with interest as the cheers went on like that, personal anecdotes and generalities all culminating under the final cry of “For being a king worth serving!”

“To the sultan,” Keith found himself swept up in the enthusiasm of the mob to add, “Because all of us are going to be alive tomorrow!”

That earned its own final cheer, and the crowd broke off into drunken revelrous chatter that could no longer be discerned as toasts. The party was in full swing, and Keith had already had enough to drink to not feel the need to find Nyma and hide behind her to avoid talking to anyone new. 

Not that Keith would say he turned into a social butterfly with the alcohol, but it did loosen his tongue enough to start a conversation with one of the partygoers. A conversation which turned into an argument, and then maybe perhaps devolved into someone taking a swing at someone, which turned into a fistfight Keith was perhaps a little too happy to be a part of. Fighting was the only thing he'd known for years after all - instead of it being a prison, it had been his release.  Getting back into the swing of things so to speak was... made him feel alive.

The fight was short-lived. Not because Keith won, which he would have, but because a firm voice and gentle hand stepped in to pull Keith back and out of range of the fight, and Keith didn’t even have time to struggle when he was suddenly overcome by a sense of intense deja vu, of someone doing this exact same thing in the past and pulling him out of fights over and over…

He shook it off in time to turn around and see who had stopped him, a tall and fair-haired man with expensive-looking glasses resting on his nose. “Come on now, I know fights are fun for you but they aren’t fun for me when I have to patch both of you up tomorrow.”

The other guy was immediately humbled, withdrawing with a muttered apology and slinking away. Who the hell warranted that kind of respect - oh wait, what had he said? Was he a doctor too? God Keith was drunk. “Sorry,” he apologized too, because it seemed like the appropriate thing to do. 

The man let go of Keith’s hand and patted him on the shoulder. “I’m Adam, and I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Keith,” he returned politely. “I think I’m the whole harem.”

“That sounds about right,” Adam laughed back. “I’m one of the doctors here in the city, though I mostly end up treating the palace staff. You can come to me if you need anything, okay?”

Keith nodded, and wondered if he was sober enough to remember him in the morning. He had never had access to as much liquor as was at this party before. 

“Keeeeeiiiiith!” A voice was whining at him, as Nyma appeared to yank on his arm. “Keith come here we gotta show ‘em!”

“Show em what?” Keith asked as he followed dumbly, letting himself be lead into climbing on top of one of the low tables and kicking empty bottles and plates aside to make room for them to stand.

“Show ‘em how hot we are, duh! Come on babe, dance with me.”

Keith blinked in surprise and stumbled nearly backing himself off the table. “I can’t dance!”

“Oh my god you’re so dumb we do it literally hours every day,” Nyma shook him by the shoulder, obviously just as wasted drunk as he was and having possibly an even better time for it than Keith was. “Come on, show them what I’ve been teaching you!”

Oh, that made sense. Too bad Keith was drunk and could remember literally nothing about dancing. Wait, he could do one thing - Keith popped his hip and toe towards the waiting audience, arms aloft in a perfect beledi pose. There, ta-dah, he could do one thing.

Nyma took the same pose but a more refined version, Because she was beautiful and professional and knew what she was doing. And then she started the dance, the precise wiggle and popping of her hips that made belly dancing seductive, and Keith remembered that he’d been taught how to do that same thing and copied the motion.

She led the dance, taking him through the first steps like a child one movement at a time until his body remembered the rest. Slowly he caught up and they were dancing as one, movements all matching and the party around them all clapping out a rhythm for them to follow as they hooted and hollered and watched Nyma and Keith dance on top of a table.

It wasn’t real music, but it was easy to let it take him away anyway. He stepped and shimmied and waved his arms, hair whipping in his face and gold slapping against his skin, and Keith felt wild and alive and  _ free _ . Closer to truly free than he’d felt in years, than he’d felt the entire time since he came to this place.

Keith danced like no one was watching, and Nyma danced like everyone in the world was. They made a good team.

—


	5. Chapter 5

Keith was starting to feel conflicted. His plan had always been to escape, but so far simple reason had dictated it was safest and smartest to stay put and ride this out. Every day he grew more and more comfortable, and as a result, something buried deep inside him was thrashing about with discomfort. 

This place was too good to be true, TOO perfect a home, and he had to figure out what the hell was WRONG with this perfect picture before he was trapped here. Before whatever sinister unrest had to be boiling under the surface finally reared up and sunk its teeth into him.

The sultan was the worst part. Spending the nights with him listening to stories with fantastical cliffhangers designed to keep Keith interested, waking up to find him already gone from their bed and working hard at his kingly duties until they could meet again at night. It wasn’t enough time together for Keith to be able to say he knew who Lance really was, and there had to still be more under the surface. If he was seriously this goofy and charming someone would have assassinated him and taken his place years ago! 

Who was this man, that could command the respect of armies but was so desperate for Keith’s approval as to stay up and lose precious sleep with him just trying to get him to stay around for one night longer?

There had to be something he was missing, and Keith was set and determined to find out what. And he was willing to start by finding out what exactly the punishments were for skipping his reading and dancing lessons that morning.

Instead of his lessons, Keith spent the day lurking in the shadows. He knew the palace well enough by now, knew Lance’s routine just well enough that he should be able to stay in earshot of the king the entire day without anyone ever noticing he was there.

That’s right, he was stalking the sultan today. He would never know who the king really was until he saw him alone, Keith wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew every facet of Lance’s behaviors and could predict him to a second. Which okay, that would take more stalking than just one day, but Keith was at least determined to find out something new he had never known about Lance before today. Good or bad or what, he was going to learn SOMETHING.

It started out predictably boring. Meetings that dragged on for hours, the likes of which Keith had all seen and been there for before. Lunch meetings and walking meetings and sitting meetings, and paperwork paperwork paperwork. It was a real drag.

There was at least an interesting upspike in the late afternoon, while Keith usually had dance lessons Nyma would hopefully be too hungover from the party to make him regret skipping today. It turns out while he was busy with that Lance had lessons of his own, not in dance but in an art far more familiar to Keith’s worn hands.

Lance had fighting lessons with the guards. The first lesson was with his knife in close range fighting, and later in the day when Keith was supposed to be with Coran he had practice with a bow and arrow. Keith stuck around carefully to watch each, and was at least settled in knowing how Lance kept fending of Keith’s half-hearted attempts to murder him over the last few months. 

Lance was actually quite skilled. Maybe good enough to survive the arena, if not permanently then at least for a few months of hard tournamenting until his body and luck gave out. It was interesting to think about, actually. The possibility of he and Lance both in the arena, whether they’d have been friends or rivals…

And if Keith had been impressed by Lance’s abilities with the knife on his belt, seeing him with that bow was something else entirely. 

The bow he used was long and tall, and Lance had wielded it like it was an extension of his body. He had only had an hour of practice but Keith had been entranced for every second of it, watching the sultan draw back the string of his bow with strong arms and patiently shoot down every target laid in front of him. Loosing arrows with perfect precision as easy as breathing.

Keith could have watched him all day. From the relaxed look on his face, Lance looked like he’d have liked to be there all day long himself.

Of course it had to end, and next came the dinner Keith still refused to make an appearance for. The point of today was finding out what Lance was like without Keith to impress, and there was still a chance he might say or do something new that Keith might finally get some kind of clue from.

Finally, someone did notice Keith’s absence, and it was after dinner that it was commented on. The table was at its emptiest stage of the night, only a few people still left trying to get their sultan’s attention and making conversation not related to politics or work.

“So, where is your cute little harem boy, anyway?” A man Keith had no name for asked, face already in a leer. “Don’t tell me you fucked him so well he needed a day in bed for it already? I heard you hadn’t even touched him yet, but maybe we were all wrong!”

Keith raised an eyebrow from his place hiding in the shadows where the servants waited for orders, dressed similarly to blend in with both the shadows and other servants to encourage the eye to slide over him in the dark. He had been wondering what the nobles in the palace really thought of him for a while. He was hardly surprised it was this.

Lance laughed like it was a joke, but the sound was hollow and stiff. “Hey, I have an idea,” he said cheerfully, his voice at an unnaturally high register, somehow joking and deadly serious at the same time as he continued. “How about you watch your goddamn mouth! And if you say something disrespectful about my consort again, I’ll cut your fucking tongue out!”

The table went still, and Keith went even stiller. He wasn’t sure what kind of response he had expected, but it sure wasn’t that. Well, no, this made sense, didn’t it? Lance wouldn’t want anyone saying anything bad about his property, especially something he had spent so long trying to tame already like Keith. 

At least, he could tell himself that, but… It felt different. As much as he could find reasons to believe otherwise it seemed like Lance was treating him like a real person with his own thoughts and opinions, and he still couldn't figure out WHY. Fine, maybe Lance just really respected his servants as people. That he could deal with. It didn’t explain why the hell he had bought and paid for Keith only to try and keep him here through the bribe of education? What was he trying to gain by keeping Keith if he refused to act like he owned him and take what he wanted?

He had followed him for an entire day, and was less satisfied than ever with what he knew. Just who was Lance? How long would it take without Keith giving him what he wanted before something had to change? Did he still yet have true colors Keith still needs to face?

When he reappeared in their shared bedroom that night, Lance didn’t ask any questions of him. All he did was continue the story he’d been telling in the place he left off, once again stopping to declare it was time for sleep just as the story was getting truly good.

—

If he couldn’t figure out what kind of person Lance was by watching, then there was one other thing Keith could do. He could ask someone.

Keith already knew Hunk was the sultan’s best friend, but he was also a lose, easygoing sort of fellow. He was cheerful and he liked people and he liked food, and it was no problem for Keith to find him the next day and get him alone with some snacks and wine to loosen his lips.

Hunk was a fun person to talk to. They had already had conversations before now, even if only brief ones, and so he was actually looking forward to his attempts to pry the other man for information. Should be fun.

“So,” Keith finally went in for the kill after a long conversation about fortune telling techniques and how none of them actually worked. “You wouldn't happen to know why I appear to be the only member of the entire harem, would you? Because from what I hear, this is kind of contradictory to the entire… harem idea in the first place.”

Hunk laughed, the kind of laugh the took up his whole body. “That’s just because Lance is a romantic! He’s intent on searching for True Love, and insists the way find them is one person at a time.”

“So…” Keith’s brow furrowed. “If there are been others before me, what happened to them?”

“They all left,” Hunk shrugged, to Keith’s utter confusion.

“I don’t know if you noticed,” Hunk went on. “Lance isn’t too keen on the whole slavery business. So since he can only outlaw it in his own kingdom and not anyone else’s, he settles for buying all his employees out of servitude.”

That checked out at least, considering where Keith himself had come from. “So, all the other people who’d been in his harem before, used to be slaves like I was.”

Hunk nodded.  “Right. But buying all your girlfriends out of slavery isn’t exactly the best way to find a keeper, you know? At first they were grateful, but without any restrictions or Lance forcing any expectations on them…”

Keith could guess where this was going. “They got bored.”

“Yup. Let’s see, the first one wanted to get a job and become a school teacher so Lance paid for her full education and she left, the second one was sold into slavery late but still had family she wanted to find so she disappeared, and the last one actually just left Lance for the prince of a different kingdom. She was kind of… Yeah.”

Somehow, that was all it took to explain the conversation Lady Allura had had with Romelle regarding his not being here long. If she cared about Lance at all, even if it wasn’t as a wife was supposed to, then her attitude towards his string of consorts would be… pessimistic. 

Keith was pretty sure he understood their relationship now. Some kind of arranged marriage set up as children, but he could tell from the way they looked and spoke to each other whatever love existed between them wasn’t romantic. As a result Lance had to keep searching for love, not finding it in the confines of his own marriage… a common sort of story among the highborn, if Keith wasn’t mistaken.

He didn’t know whether to feel sorry for them or not. Was Allura allowed a consort, too, or was she stuck in this loveless arrangement with no companions to ease her loneliness? Well. She probably wasn’t allowed necessarily, but he had a feeling no one would stop her if she tried. Maybe she already even had a consort and it was just so well hidden Keith had no idea…

“What about you?” Hunk asked, snapping Keith out of his thoughts. “Do you have any family you need to be escaping home to?”

Keith hesitated. “I guess not,” he answered eventually. “I don’t remember anything before the arena. I feel like I must have had a family, but if I can’t remember them they must not have cared enough to keep me safe.”

Hunk whistled. “I’ve heard that story before. Maybe they sold you themselves.”

“Maybe they did…” Keith said, though something didn’t sit right about that statement. He had a feeling like it wasn’t true, like someone had fought to try and protect him. His father, maybe? But he couldn’t remember anything like a face, couldn’t remember anything but screaming and blood hitting the sand.

Maybe he did have a family. Maybe one that had loved him. And maybe they were dead.

—

“Come to the Bathhouse with me,” Lance said after dinner, getting Keith by himself. “I need a bath, and it feels like we haven’t had time to talk in days.”

Keith agreed, because he didn’t particularly have anything better to do with his time once dinner was over anyway. Also, Nyma had about kicked his ass for skipping a lesson the day before, and Keith could use a good soak in some cool water.

For some reason it hadn’t occurred to Keith that the royal bath the sultan used would be different from the small bath chambers Keith had been directed to on his first day, which were already in his opinion the height of luxury. 

He had underestimated what luxury even was, the huge bathing room he entered now with Lance being the absolute height of opulence at every level. The walls were pure white tile with gold and turquoise accents,  and water poured from the ceiling in makeshift waterfalls splashing serenely into the huge, room-sized pool of bath water. It even had windows to let the sunlight in, the room turning purple and red as the last rays of the sunset cast the water aflame with their glow.

The water even smelled good, fragrant like there were perfumed oil floating in the bath waiting for skin to touch it. It felt amazing to get into the water, and Keith was so distracted by the bath itself he forgot entirely to care about the fact that he and Lance had just completely undressed to get into it.

They had never both been naked in the same room before, even when they slept in the same bed together. Keith had never thought to care before, had never thought of Lance in any sexual connotation but… he actually had a really good body. Long limbs, dark bronze skin, muscles honed from the hard work of daily self defense training… Keith had known his face was handsome, but it had always been kind of an annoying kind of handsome until now.

Either Keith was horny, or he was starting to like Lance as a person enough to appreciate him physically. Probably a mixture of both. Either way seemed dangerous, and Keith decided it would be best if he just maintained eye contact any time he had to look at Lance for this little bath of theirs.

Lance offered to wash his back, which Keith turned down for obvious reasons. Naked touching was something to avoid, for sure. They washed in peace side by side, Keith not knowing which bottles held what himself so just mimicking Lance and using everything he used. 

The pink bottle for hair, the blue bottle for the body, and the green bottle was just scented oil to cover the slightly greasy smell of the soap that had ironically dried out his skin when he’d usd it. Everything felt nice and smelled even better, and Keith felt like he could stay in these warm waters forever.

“So…” Lance waded towards him, slinking through the water to get close. “Tell me about yourself. It seems like I always do all the talking between us, you know? Tell me a little about Keith.”

“That’s because there is nothing to know about Keith,” he answered, simple and honest. “All I’ve done for over ten years is fight in the arena. I was so preoccupied with surviving, I even forgot my own family and childhood. I’m still figuring out who I am myself.”

Lance whistled, low. “What about while you were in the arena? You’re telling me you’ve never been in love?”

“I’ve had sex,” Keith shrugged. “But no, anyone I ever liked ended up dead, until it was easier not to get close to anyone. I’m…” he paused, deciding to be honest. “I’m still trying to unlearn that now, but I don’t know… if it’s a good idea.”

Lance’s smile looked worried. “Because you don’t know if you’re even staying, right?”

Right. Why make friends if he was just going to leave, right? But on the other hand… if he did leave, where would he go? But if he didn’t leave, what would he  _ do _ ? Shit, what would he do even if he did leave? Give up this unsettlingly perfect setting to do what, become a mercenary and start killing again? What did Keith even want out of his life? How long could he stay here trying to figure that out? Was it more dangerous to stay or to go?

“Why…” Keith found himself asking, swelling thickly. “Why did you buy me that day, anyway? Were you just at the arena shopping for a new harem, or was there a reason you picked me?”

“No, I didn’t go there intending to buy anyone, much less one of their two most expensive fighters,” Lance laughed. “I just… Saw you, and you were spectacular. I knew you were special, and I couldn't let you stay there and die in a meaningless fight.”

Keith frowned, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “You liked watching me fight that much?”

Lance’s smile was soft, but somehow shone like starlight on the bath water. “You don’t remember meeting me at all then, do you? I guess I’m not surprised, I was just one of a hundred people you passed on your way to a fight for your life.”

“On your way to the arena, you pass where the Royal seats are. I was on my way up to where my seat was when I passed by you, and I wished you good luck in the match.”

Keith indeed did not remember this in the least bit. “Did I say anything back?”

Lance laughed, short and sweet. “Yeah. You said, ‘Luck isn’t what keeps me out of the corpse pyre.’”

Keith winced, not realizing he had said something so gruesome. “And you decided you needed to bring me home to your bed for a line like that?”

Lance chuckled again, moving in to sit directly next to Keith in the bath, and look him in the eye. “It left an impact on me. I never liked arenas or anything, but something about the way you said that, and then the beautiful way you fought for your life… I don’t know, I just. Wanted to get closer to you. Wanted to know who you were, what you thought of things, what you liked and hated.” A self-deprecating little smile, and his voice dropped almost like he was speaking to himself. “And I still don’t know any of that.”

Keith stared at him, and, for the first time, felt the urge to move closer to Lance, too. Close enough to press their bodies together, maybe, and feel Lance’s heat against his cool skin. “Thank you.”

Lance’s smile was still a little sad. “I’d do it again a hundred times.”

—

That night, Keith had dreams that didn’t feel like dreams. They were far too vivid, the smell of blood and sand too real in his nose to be anything but a memory.

He was a child. Smaller than he ever remembered being. And wherever he was, it wasn’t home. Home was gone now, gone like his parents were, and he only had one person left.

He looked up, to gaze at the person the large hand in his was attached to. The man smiled, squeezing Keith’s hand. Was it even a man, or a boy like Keith was? It was all so far away, all Keith knew was that the person he was with had always been bigger than him, and would always keep him safe. This person  _ was _ his home, now.

Something was wrong, though. Not just that they had lost their parents - their? Was this his brother, then? Not only had they lost their parents, but now they were lost. They were far away from home and into a place where the air was hot and dry and the dirt and grass all turned to sand…

It was worse than that, though. There were men there now, and then there was the sound of arguing. The brother he was with, squeezing Keith’s hand and telling him to get back, to stay behind him where it was safe.

But it wasn’t safe, not at all. Keith hadn't been afraid at first, hadn’t been scared of anything as long as he was with his brother, because his brother would protect him from anything, was the absolute strongest. 

Wasn't he? Then why wasn’t he winning? Why were the men laughing and taunting him, waving around swords like they were toys?

A flash of swooping silver, and there was a scream. No, two screams. His brother had screamed but Keith was still screaming, trying to run forward to reach his brother where he was lying in the sand, clutching at his arm. Clutch at where his arm had used to be, the hand Keith had just been holding now lying in the sand a few feet away and soon Keith couldn't see anything through the tears.

His name was being shouted, and he was screaming back. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how much he kicked or screamed, or how badly he tried to fight back against the man who was carrying him. It didn't matter. He was too small.

They were leaving, and Keith was going with them. And left behind in the sand, growing ever distance over the sound of the horse hooves, screaming Keith’s name and trying desperately to force himself to his feet to follow, was the brother Keith had forgotten about.

A brother who he hadn’t watched die. A brother who might still be alive.

—


	6. Chapter 6

The question of what, exactly, Keith’s likes and dislikes were had gotten him wondering. Lance had made him think, and Keith was starting to realize he wasn’t sure what he liked or hated at all yet. It had been a few months now, he should really get a hold on who he was outside of the arena, right?

Was this was freedom looked like? Just aimless confusion and wandering around, wondering what it was you were supposed to be doing all day? No wonder everyone else had real jobs. Maybe that’s what Keith needed, too.

He didn’t know anything about how money worked though. That seemed… like a thing he should know. He’d have to ask Coran to start teaching him that sort of thing in their reading lessons instead of all the useless history of The Great Altean Empire he was learning.

He did enjoy learning, Keith was pretty sure. He liked the feeling of pride he got when Coran grinned and told him he was picking things up quickly, when he was asked a question and could actually tell his teacher the answer.

He liked dancing, he decided. It felt like combat training only he liked that instead of fear of death he was just moving for the sake of showing off, just moving for the sake of moving. Liked that it was difficult, liked that when he got it wrong he felt clumsy and when he got it right he felt like it was as natural as breathing.

And he liked, he decided, hiding. He liked slinking in the shadows and blending in with crowds, he liked the art of not being seen. He liked that he was good at it, had always been good at evasion. Wanted to be even better at it, wanted to stand in a room full of people and go completely unseen.

And so, that’s what Keith was starting to do in his free time. He’d choose someone to follow and see how close he could get before someone’s eyes landed on him.

Today, his target was Lady Romelle. She was Allura’s handmaiden and best friend, and as someone he still had policy and etiquette lessons with she was someone who wouldn’t get him in trouble when he got caught getting to close. He could just say he wanted to ask her a question - even had one in mind for if someone asked him what he was doing.

Which is why inevitably, three hours into his little stalking stint, Romelle cornered him asking what on Earth he was doing, and he immediately forgot everything and blurted out, “Not following the Sultana!” Which was true. Stupid, but true.

Romelle laughed, rich and adorable in the way she covered her mouth with her hand when she did it. “Good thing you’re not, because if you were you missed her about twenty minutes ago!”

He stepped gracelessly out of the shadows, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna think about the trouble I’d get in if she caught me following her, anyway. She really seems to…” Blatantly ignore Keith when he was in the same room as her? “Dislike my presence.”

She giggled again, bumping his shoulder with hers. “She doesn’t hate you or anything! The princess just doesn’t trust you because you look like you’re gonna steal something and run out of here, says you have the shifty eyes of a burglar.”

Guess he still wasn’t very good at hiding then. “No, I can understand why she would dislike me. I am her husband’s entire harem, after all.”

Romelle stared at him. “Who’s husband?”

“Wait, what?”

“What do you mean, what?”

Romelle shook her head in disbelief, a smile cracking across her face. “Wait wait, you mean Princess Allura, don’t you? Is that why you called her Sultana? Do you think she’s,” her words were broken up by laughter. “Do you think she’s King Lance’s _wife_?”

“Well what else was I supposed to think, no one tells me anything around here!”

“They have the same FACE, how could you not tell they’re brother and sister! Oh my god, is that why you haven’t let him bed you? Everyone knows, it’s like, the palace’s most well-known secret!”

“Stop being a gossip!” He shouted in panic. “Let me do things at my own pace, I can spend time with a guy without wanting to fuck him!”

“Yeah but don’t you still sleep in the same bed as him? He way, how did you not think it was weird he didn’t sleep with his so-called wife?”

“Please stop,” Keith begged. “I don’t know, okay? It didn’t make sense for him NOT to be married.” He had to get the hell out of here. This conversation was impeding his ability to breathe.

“I guess that’s true,” she agreed, a little wistfully. “He’s so handsome and kind, he should have ten wives by now.”

“How kind can anyone with ten wives be?”

That made her pause. “Yeah, you’re right. With how many girlfriends he’s had who he hasn’t married, I don’t think he’s the type to get married more than once.”

That sounded completely true, which is why is was making Keith so unsettled. “I gotta…” He had to leave this conversation and get some fresh air, is what he needed.

She nodded, returning to grab the book of poetry she’d been occupied in before she’d called him out, waving him off. “Go follow someone else for a while, little crow.”

“No nicknames, cow!”

Her laughter followed him down the hallway.

So, Lance wasn’t married. Lance had no wife, and Keith was his entire harem. The implications were… a little more serious than he’d like to consider.

He was wandering around trying to clear his mind when he saw one of the councilmen talking to a guard. Instinctively, he ducked back into the shadows again, a habit he was grateful for when he noticed the two of them talking in hushed voices like they didn’t want to be overheard.

“And he’s never alone?” The councilman, who’s name Keith recalled he had once learned to be Throk, said. The guard nodded, and Throk scoffed. “No matter. He only needs to be out of the way. There are many times when the Sultan leaves the palace.”

Well if that didn’t sound ominous. He wanted to follow as they walked past, but the hallway was too narrow to hide in and the guard’s eyes flickered to him as they passed by the space Keith was pressed to the wall, not quite seeing Keith himself but sensing there was something off about the shadows, and they were well out of sight by the time it was safe to move again.

Hm. So, whatever that had been, this guys was certainly someone to watch out for.

—

“The attacks have been happening just on the edge of the city,” Pidge confirmed in her serious-meeting voice. “But definitely within the city bounds. If we don’t deal with it, the problem with get bigger, and closer to us.”

The sultan sat back on his throne, kicking one foot idly in the air where it was crossed over his other leg. “I’ve never heard of bandit gangs inside a city before. They always hide out in the desert and attack travelers.”

“That is still what they’re doing,” Pidge shrugged. “They’re waiting on the outskirts of the city to attack people coming in and out of Capital. No offense, but they’re a little bit of a threat to your direct reputation as king.”

Lance bobbed his foot in though, the motion of his shoe’s gold ornamentation dictating Keith with it’s glinting under the light. “And when you sent out guards the bandits didn’t show up to attack them?”

Pidge nodded. “They were in disguise, but it wasn’t good enough bait. We still don’t know where the bandits are hiding.”

“Okay,” Lance nodded to himself. “I’ll go look for myself, then. Hunk, Keith, you two will be the only ones coming with me. We’ll pretend I’m taking Keith out for a date, and then the three of us will look like we have enough money that they won’t be able to resist trying to rob us.”

It was Hunk who frowned. “You think just the three of us are enough to take down an entire bandit gang?”

“No, I think we’re enough to take down the small portion of bandits who’s out attacking, and then capture one for information on the rest of them. Why wouldn’t the entire gang all attack in one spot? They’ll be spread out all around the border roads.”

“He’s right,” Pidge agreed. “It’s always been small bands of about five or six guys. They’ll be caught off guard by Keith and the Sultan both being fighters, but I still want to send a backup guard to follow you in case things get rough.”

“That’s fair,” Lance said. “Prepare a carriage, then. We can open the windows so everyone can see me and Keith and then hide Leifsdottir on the floor.”

The tiny blonde saluted, Keith wondered if he was supposed, as well. He was apparently recruited onto this dangerous mission after all.

Ha. He said that like he wasn’t looking forward to this.

It was a few hours ride all the way to the end of the city, so they planned it for tomorrow instead of going right away.

The carriage ride out took a few hours, and might have been nice and relaxing if he weren’t hyper conscious of the armed guard on the floor. On the way back they were probably going to have a captured bandit with them, so he doubted the trip home would be more soothing.

He was used to waiting around hours for his match to start, and he was used to being crowded into tight spaces with only a few other people, too. So the waiting around and riding in the carriage was kind of a nice way to spend time waiting for a flight comparatively, and when the bandits finally showed up Keith was more than ready for it.

“Hey,” Lance said, catching Keith’s attention. “I just remembered you’re probably unarmed, right?”

Keith tore his eyes away from the window he had been staring out of to look back at Lance. “So?” Not like he’d never kicked a knife out of an opponent’s hand before today.

Lance laughed, and Keith felt his face flush with heat for reasons he couldn’t identify. “Here,” he pulled the increasingly familiar knife out of his belt, presenting it handle first to Keith. “I have my father’s sword, so you had better take this.”

Keith’s fingers wrapped around the turquoise hilt, the gold ornamentation cool against his warm skin. The knife went into his own belt gratefully.

They didn’t have to wait much longer after that. A group of what looked like about eight men were closing in on and surrounding the carriage from all sides, seeming to pop out of the sand like lizards to creep up on them.

The single horse slowed down when it was presented with it’s human obstacle, and in an instant it’s reigns were cut and the carriage was falling forward with no horse to keep its only two wheels steady. The disruption was a perfect signal flare, and Keith and Lance leapt out of the doors to find Hunk already pointing his spear at one of the bandits and ready to start the fight.

Keith didn’t let him get the chance. He was targeting in on the shortest bandit and drawing his knife, the man’s eyes gleaming with surprise as Keith dove in. With a flash of his knife he’d sliced the man’s arm open bad enough for his sword to drop on the sand, turning around for a quick spin kick to his face just in case he had other ideas of moving in on Keith.

He turned around to face the next man, taking half a second for his eyes to scan the small area surrounding the carriage to take in Hunk and Lance caught deep in their own battles.

He only looked long enough to confirm they were doing fine before sliding into the next fight. The next bandit was more more prepared, and Keith’s blade clashed against his sword. But Keith had fought a hundred opponents before this and every one of them had been fighting for their very lives, and this man only fighting for money was no match for Keith’s skill.

They traded a few blows before Keith was ducking low, using his small size as the advantage he needed to get the upper hand and slide behind the man. His knife went straight to the back of the bandit’s neck, one quick stab that took more force to pull his knife back out than it had taken to get it in.

Lance had put his opponent down and Hunk was still holding a spear to one man’s neck, possibly their designated hostage. So Keith turned back to the other two remaining men himself, flipping his blade ready in his hand while he assessed his last two opponents.

They looked… wary. “This little fucker just killed Hasir in two seconds! I couldn’t fucking kill Hasir with ten days and ten swords!”

“Must be these goddamned Arusians,” the other man said. “I’ve only ever met two people from that race and the other one had only one goddamned arm and took down eight guys. It’s true what they say about them orientals being magic, I swear ya.”

They were still looking at Keith and not each other as they spoke, refusing to give up even an inch of their guard for Keith to attack in. Which worked pretty well in Leifsdottir’s favor, as the tiny woman had slunk out of her hiding place to slip behind the men. She and Keith caught half a second of eye contact before they both moved, and the two men didn’t last another thirty seconds between them.

The bandit raid was over almost as fast as it had started, only two bandits left alive from the seven bodies they had started with. They picked the unconscious one to take back with them.

—

 


	7. Chapter 7

Keith looked at the gilded blade in his hand, the metal weight of it heavy and cool in his palm. After the battle Keith had attempted to return the knife to Lance, but the king had rejected it citing that Keith would be needing it more.

It was so strange, to be trusted with such a thing. Not only was it a weapon when Keith had tried to kill Lance on multiple occasions, but it was the very knife Lance always wore on his own belt, and if it wasn’t sentimental it was at least expensive as hell. It seemed wasted on someone like him.

But more that that, it seemed so strange that he could be trusted like this, after so little time. Why? Why didn’t Lance fear him? Why did he want to spend more and more time with him, when Keith had only ever pulled away? Was he really so desperate for company?

He remembered the words Lance had said to him in the bath, about wanting to know more about Keith. Was it just because Keith was beautiful? Just because he was mysterious? 

Lance seemed like he was transparent, but he was the one Keith couldn’t figure out….

“And Queen Ishtar took a consort named Haseed, and married him in secret so the courts could not demand she take a more noble-blooded lover…” Coran was droning on, the words finally making Keith glance up in attention. 

“Consort?” He echoed dumbly. “Wait, so a queen can marry a consort? And like, that doesn’t make him king or anything?”

Coran smiled, glad to have finally caught Keith's interest with literally anything he’d said over the course of these boring lessons. “That’s right! In Altea if a woman is an only child she’d retain her power unless he married someone of equal status, and since Queen Ishtar took a mere vizier as her lover, when they married he became the Queen Consort instead of king.”

“Oh…” Keith said in understanding. “I just didn’t know you were allowed to marry a consort at all.”

Coran laughed. “My dear boy, someone married to royalty is exactly what a consort IS.”

Keith paused. “So wait. I’m not just in the harem, but like… supposed to be…”

“Well, I suppose there’s been no official announcement of engagement, so you aren’t quite his fiancé yet. Unless he’s asked…?”

Keith quickly shook his head. 

Coran nodded. “But yes, in this land the Sultan or Sultana is allowed to marry whomever they wish, as long as royal heirs are produced. And since Allura is older than Lance, it’s actually her children that are next in line for the throne, so. Provided she have heirs Lance wouldn’t even need to take a concubine to do what ah. You can’t.”

Keith’s jaw dropped, thoughts rushing. So he wasn’t just some harem boy, he was… Lance had real intentions of… Allah above. Did this mean his face would be too well known to keep sneaking around? Did this mean he couldn’t  _ leave _ ?

Did he still want to leave? No… he had to, didn’t he? That dream he’d had a few nights before, and what the last bandit had said. Keith was certain he had a brother somewhere he had to find. But he also didn’t know where, and the last bandit they did have hadn’t even heard of a one-armed Arusian much less knew his location.

Keith didn’t know what to do. Maybe… he could stay here, and ask someone for help gathering rumors in the meantime. He was pretty sure he couldn't live here forever, but he could at least stay for a little while longer, right?

Well after his lessons but before the time when Keith was left comfortably to himself, he was found by someone unexpected. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Allura said, cornering him in private. “A bird told me you've been sneaking around like a little mouse in the shadows. Care to explain to me what that’s been all about?”

Keith swallowed thickly. “No?” He tried, backing away. 

Allura merely laughed like the elegant creature she was, approaching him even further. “Don’t worry, I don’t disapprove. If you had anything ill in mind for my dear brother, I’d have more than deduced it by now. As long as I can trust you, you can trust me.”

“Then,” Keith said slowly, “If we can trust each other, what is it that you need of me, princess?”

“What I need,” she smiled carefully. “Is a favor.”

Keith nodded, heart pounding. “A favor that involves…being discreet?”

She leaned in conspiratorially. “Indeed. You see, what I suspect…” She said, her voice dropping low.

Keith nodded eagerly, leaning in further to listen.

“Is that the cooks have been baking lemon cakes, and Coran and Lance are fit to hide them from me. I need you to steal some for me, and report back to my chambers.”

Keith’s jaw dropped. “Yes ma’am?” He ended up saying in his bafflement, agreeing to the bizarre favor without thinking.

She stood back up straight, grinning. “Excellent. Then when you get back, we can share them and you can tell me all the interesting things you’ve been overhearing in your playing mouse around my palace.”

That… was more along the lines of things he’d been expecting from her.

Stealing a simple plate of sweets was no difficult task for at this point, all he had to do was locate them and then pick up the plate and wander off with it, and no one asked a single question as to why he wanted it.

It was his first time being in Allura’s room, and it even even more opulent and grand than the one he and Lance slept in. Then again, that was probably just the harem’s chamber, not Lance’s actual bedroom…

Keith shook his head, deigning not to think about it. Royalty was royalty after all, and this whole palace literally reeked of luxury. Granted that smell was a pleasant oil always burning somewhere, but it was still almost uncomfortably ubiquitous. 

“You’ve got them!” Allura declared in delight, scrambling inelegantly to the plate of lemon cakes Keith had pilfered for her. “I knew it, I knew they were hiding them from me!” She stuffed one in her mouth, and for the first time ever Keith saw her talk around her food as she went on to mumble about how no one would let her keep eating these because they said she had no self control. Which, Keith was beginning to understand, seeing her put those things away like she was storing them for winter.

She finally shared the plate, and Keith took one cake from it to nibble on. “You’re still dressed like a servant you know,” Allura said eventually, eyeing him up and down. “It’s terribly ill-suited form someone of your station. I can’t believe everyone has let this gone overlooked for so long.

Keith glanced down at what he was wearing - loose grey pants and most of a vest, the same kind of things he’d worn his whole life through. For dance practice he always had noisy dance anklets Nyma made him put on and he often forgot to take them off afterwards, but today was not one of those days.

“What’s wrong with this?”

Allura rolled her eyes, and somehow moved in a way that made all of the gold of he jewelry glitter directly into his eyes. Oh. 

“You, my dear boy, are the ENTIRETY of the Sultan’s harem. You need to look the part. Going on wearing rags like that makes the entire empire look poorer for it.”

She brought him to her own closet, where stores of silks lie on careful shelves, folded perfectly into squares. “I have one outfit I never wear that you can keep, but the rest we’ll have to have tailored to your body. I’m sure the royal tailors have been eyeing you for months now, I’d hardly be surprised if they already had half of a dozen outfits ready and waiting for your exact measurements.”

She handed him a pile of red and black silks, making a vague gesture for him to go ahead and change right there while she rummaged through a table full of jewelry.

It wasn’t a lot of clothing on or off considering the heat they all lived in, so Keith did as instructed. Only to realize that never once had he seen Allura wearing pants, and quite appropriately was not presented with a pair right now.

“Consort, huh?” He muttered darkly to himself as he slipped the skirts on around his waist. Why had he not expected that he’d be wearing less clothing than before, he had no idea.

Once he’d shrugged on the small top - a little loose around where he didn’t have any tits, but his broader shoulders and chest made up for it enough to give the appearance of something that fit - Allura started handing him gold chains, instructing them to be hung around his neck or arms of belly as she handed them to him, and be the end he was covered in as much gold as she was. 

The next step was the oils the put in his hair to make it his new and smell like flowers, followed by a couple of quick strokes of kohl around his eyes Keith would in no way allow to be done to him again under any circumstances.

She adjusted the jewelry had on and fluffed his hair a little bit. And with a smile of satisfaction, that’s when she finally presented him with a polished silver mirror, large enough that he could tilt it and take a look at his entire body through the looking glass.

He looked… sexy, he decided. The only word he could dig up to describe this outfit was ‘sexual,’ and he couldn’t yet decide if that was a good or bad thing. Mostly so far it was just weird, but another smaller part of him was kind of excited to see how Lance reacted. Maybe this harem thing wasn’t all bad, after all.

“Well,” Allura asked. “What do you think?”

“Can I have pants?”

“Not all the time, no. No matter what you may have going on on the side, officially your only job is to look good. You have to at least be able to pull that off.”

He took a few steps, frowning at how the sound the gold made jingling against each other. “I can’t even move quietly like this.”

“Well you’ll have to learn, won’t you?” She put away the mirror, a mysterious look on her face. “If you can’t even manage to stay discreet with bells tied to your feet, then you aren’t good enough to sneak around a place with as many eyes and ears as this one.”

Keith swallowed thickly. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Her smile was enigmatic. “Now then,” she said, grabbing him by the arm. 

“Why don’t you and I take a walk down to the tailor to get you an appropriate wardrobe, and you tell me what exactly you’ve been overhearing. I need to know what’s going on in my own home, after all.”

Oddly terrified and certain he could trust her at the same time, Keith began to speak.

—

Allura was right to assume they had been waiting for him. By the time they were done at the tailors Keith had an entire wardrobe completed and sent to his room, hours of trimming and measuring and sewing things just so to the point where he was so busy with the tailors he missed dinner and all of his sneaking around time afterwards. 

They had dinner right there in the sewing room, food brought up to them so the princess wouldn’t have to go hungry, and by the time all was said and done Keith was ready to go back to his own quarters and get some rest.

And of course, there was the fact that he hadn’t seen Lance all day. Not that he’d missed the sultan or anything - Keith could go one day without the man’s company and not mind at all in fact. But considering what he’d been doing all day he was a little excited to show off his new outfit and see what exactly, Lance’s reaction was.

And so Keith waited in his bedchambers, practicing reading on the stories from the book of fairy tales Lance had nearly gotten to the end of. Keith wondered what would happen when he ran out.

Lance came in after not long, earlier than he usually retired. Keith eagerly put the book down, standing up so Lance could see him in all his clothing’s resplendence. 

Lance’s reaction was at first a gasp, which Keith found quite satisfying. And then he averted his eyes, face turning red and looking everywhere but Keith as he stuttered out a weak, “So where were you all day? With Nyma?”

Keith shook his head, stepping closer to Lance with a jingle of gold. “Allura, actually. We went to the tailor’s and gossiped all day.”

“Allura?” Lance said in surprise, accidentally turning to Keith again and the immediately blinking away as the blush overtook his face again. “That’s, um. Really rare, she never usually hangs out with anyone but Romelle. She’s never liked any of the girls I’ve ever brought home.”

Keith stiffened at the mention of other people while he was here trying to show off. “Maybe the other girls weren’t worth her time,” he said, carefully stepping into Lance’s line of sight.

“Yeah, maybe…” Lance trailed off, finally faced with the full force of Keith’s sexiness and looking significantly weaker for it. “You look. Like. Wow, by the way.”

Keith finally smiled. “Thanks,” he said simply, shifting his hips from side to side in a way that would look casual but draw attention to his waist with the quiet clatter of his jewelry. “I got a lot more outfits just like it.” 

More skirts of different fabrics and colors and widths, some came with shorts and some came with bare hips. Even the pants he got were either transparent or mostly had slits down the sides to show off as much leg as possible while he moved.

“I can’t wait to see them,” Lance said honestly, eyes glued to Keith as they roamed up and down his half-dressed body. “Can I… Can I touch you?”

It was Keith’s turn to blink and turn red, taking a quiet step back. “Touch me how?”

Lance shook his head quickly. “Nevermind, I don’t know. I’m just being stupid.”

Keith paused. “You can help me take off my jewelry,” he said slowly. “I can’t really sleep in it all.”

Lance nodded, stepping closer. The first thing he did was take the circlet out of Keith’s hair, running his fingers gently through Keith’s hair to smooth it out where it had become unsettled. Just as Keith was closing his eyes to let the shiver overtake his spine Lance was pulling back, placing the circlet on the table and moving on to the gold necklaces hanging around his throat.

That felt even more intimate than Lance’s fingers in his hair had, Lance’s fingers and the slide of cool gold falling off of his neck. He barely got a chance to appreciate it before the necklaces were on the table and Lance was moving on to the pair of chains circling around Keith’s waist in a cross, his knuckles brushing against the smooth skin of his torso.

It was when Lance fell to his knees to undo his anklets that the breath caught in Keith’s throat, refusing to dislodge so he could breathe again while Lance was still on the floor.

Here was the Sultan of all Altea, on his knees before Keith and undressing him like it was Lance who was the servant and Keith who was the king. All simply because he’d asked for the slightest bit of help, a request Lance had used as an excuse to touch Keith as much as possible within the context of that favor. It was simply incredible.

The jingle of his anklets hitting the tabletop, and Keith could breathe again, though he hardly felt he remembered how anymore. The only thing he could do to hope to return the gesture was to unstrap his knife from where it was hidden around his waist, letting it hit the tabletop with a deliberate clack. 

Keith felt more naked, more exposed and vulnerable than he had in his entire life at that moment. And Lance only smiled, and asked Keith if he was ready for bed.

They slept closer than they ever had before that night.

—


	8. Chapter 8

It was Keith’s first time riding a horse, and the beast was absolutely nerve-wracking.

It was taller than he was, had a giant mouth filled with giant teeth, and terrifying hooves that could stomp a man to death at a moment’s notice. And here people used them for the smallest of everyday labors, from plowing fields to getting rides into he Altean city from the palace.

It was only a couple hours ride, and he couldn’t manage to get used to it. The saddle kept swaying under his backside with every step of the horse, and even with the reins there seemed to be nowhere to grab and nothing to hold onto. He felt like he was gonna fall off at any second, and the constant rocking and swaying was making him just a little bit sick.

He just thanked the gods that he didn’t have to try and actually take control of this thing’s movements when it was casually following Lance’s handsome grey stallion like it knew better than Keith did. Which to be fair… it did. Keith didn’t know where they Hell they were going.

He knew what they were doing, sure, but that wasn‘t the same as knowing where that actually was or would be. He’d never been in the Altean city before, had never strayed outside the vast gates of the palace in his wanderings, and had no idea what to expect from the city or how to navigate it. Which was too bad, because every instinct in Keith’s body wanted to wander off and explore by himself for a while, see what was being sold in all of these merchant stalls and what was beyond all the streets they were passing.

Who lived in this city? How did they live, and how was it different from how people lived in the palace? Were they happy? Were they dangerous? And what was in all these buildings, just people living and buying things to keep on living? Keith wanted to see  _ everything _ .

It was just he and Lance and a few guards today, maybe after they were done checking on this building site they were going to Keith could convince them to wander around for a few hours just to see the city…

How far were they from wherever they were going, anyway? That’s it, Keith was going for it. All he needed was an excuse for them to stop and get off their horses for a second, because there was no way he could lead the horse off it’s determined route without any knowledge on how to steer the damned thing.

Or, maybe that fact was his way out. Experimentally, Keith tugged on the reigns. The horse jerked his head back and shook it, as if to tell Keith this wasn’t gonna happen. Keith jerked the reigns harder, giving the horse a little kick on it’s side like he’d seen the other riders do, and this time the horse whinnied and veered right into Hunk’s horse, nearly crashing into it.

The slight kerfuffle of calming down the horses was the only opportunity he needed to slip off of his and into the town, wondering to himself how far he could go and what he could see before he would get caught and they’d have to get back on track. He should get at least a few minutes by himself before anyone found him, he was certain of that.

So Keith snuck off into a crowd, the throng of busy people watching the sultan pass by providing more than enough cover to disappear. The streets were full of people, so many all walking and talking and all busy with their own lives. It had all been well enough to sneak off into them, but now that he was of the safety of his horse and into the people, he had no idea what to do with himself. 

What exactly was he doing out here? And how was he even gonna get back when he was done? What if they just went on without him and he couldn’t find his way back to Lance, then what was supposed to happen? Crap, Keith really should have thought this through…

After a few minutes he wasn’t quite to panicking yet, at least until he felt a hand landing on his shoulder from behind. At that point he was ready to whip-kick someone in the head, but when he snapped his head around to ready an attack it was who else but Lance, smiling patiently and dragging Keith out of the middle of the street off to the side so people could pass by them.

“What did you do that for? Are you trying to run away or something?” Lance asked, a worried little half smile curling his lip and his and still on Keith’s shoulder. 

“I was an accident,” Keith sort-of-lied. “Or more like, am impulse? I just saw the city looked so alive and I wanted to see a little more.”

Lance’s smile softened into something warm and sweet, squeezing Keith’s shoulder and finally letting his hand drop. “You should have just said so. We’re really close to the building site anyway, we have time for a detour.”

He looked back at where he’d left the horses and guards, still waiting for the two of them further up the street. “Tell you what. We both ditch them, and walk the rest of the way there together. Just the two of us, exploring Altea for a while.”

Keith smiled back. “That sounds like a perfect idea,” he said. “At we really allowed? Or are they gonna look for us?”

“Oh, they’re gonna look for us,” Lance slipped his hand into Keith’s. “We just have to be fast enough not to get caught.” And with that he pulled Keith into an alley and out of sight of the horse-mounted guards. 

And suddenly, the city was intimidating anymore, just by virtue of not being alone. Lance took Keith all around, looking at stalls filled with wares and people passing by. Spices that smelled like everything in the universe, fabrics of every texture and color Keith had ever seen before and then some, and things are of silver copper and gold and glass that sparkled in the morning sunlight. 

It was all entrancing, and Keith took his time looking at and smelling everything, Lance staying patiently with him with a smile.

They couldn’t stay anywhere forever though, and Lance was still leading them through the streets with specific intent of reaching a goal in a relatively timely manner. Keith didn’t mind. He didn’t need to see everything there was, he had just needed the freedom to know if he wanted to jump off his horse and explore no one was going to try and punish him for it or anything like that. 

It sounded like he was testing his limits, when he really thought about it but… Maybe he still was. And maybe he was feeling the need to test these limits because he was trying to get comfortable.

When he looked at Lance, smiling at a merchant and shaking hands with a stranger on the street, Keith couldn’t deny why. It was Lance that age Keith want to stay in Altea.

“Keith, come here,” Lance waved him over with a huge grin. “I got something for you!”

Keith blinked, wondering what he could have bought in the two minutes Keith had been distracted. He looked over Lance’s shoulder to see a hairpin in his palm, a turquoise-winged dragonfly in a gold setting. “It’s... for me?”

Lance eagerly nodded, and Keith couldn't help but smile. “I know you just keep borrowing Nyma and Allura’s jewelry so far, and wanted to start getting you some of your own.”

Like he had his own wardrobe now, and his own bedroom if you didn’t count that Lance never left him alone for a night, which Keith really didn’t. 

Keith tilted his head to the side, swiping a part of his bangs out of his face. His hair was brushing his shoulders, long enough now that he wondered if he should try to use the hairpin to set it up in a bun or something instead to get it off his neck, but Lance was already sliding the pin in place behind Keith’s ear to pin that lock of hair out of his face, and the shivers that ran down Keith’s spine were pleasant enough that Keith didn’t want to touch the pin ever again.

“Come on,” Lance said after a while, his hand lingering in Keith’s hair. “We’ve really gotta catch up to the others.”

Keith nodded, and they continued on towards the heart of the city.

It was probably only twenty minutes before they caught up with the others again, the mounted royal soldiers coming to sight easily through the crowds of people occasionally dragging along a camel. 

It was even sooner after that they reached a construction site, finally dismounting so Lance could do whatever it was he wanted to do here.

The building site was busy with people, a cleared out space with the foundations of a large house with the walls of brick already being built by able hands. 

“So, what is this anyway?” Keith finally asked, after about a half an hour of Lance speaking to people in charge to ask about timelines and progress and other boring things like that. “And why is it so important that it needed your personal attention?”

Lance looked surprised, like he had no idea Keith hadn’t known what was going on the entire time. “Didn’t I tell you? This is where we’re building the school.”

“School?” Keith mimicked back in surprise, vaguely remembering something about funding for a school when he’d first arrived in Altea. 

“Yeah!” Lance nodded eagerly, and just in case Keith had been asking because he didn’t know what it was, felt the need to explain. “A place where children can all come together and learn how to read and write, and do basic math and history like the stuff Coran has been teaching you.”

“Coran hasn’t been teaching me math,” was the first thing Keith thought to say back. “Just writing and a lot of history.”

Lance blinked at him. “Oh. Well that we need to ask him about then,” he said. “You should be learning at least the same basics we’ll be teaching to common kids and orphans off the street with this school.”

Orphans and common children? Keith couldn’t have denied the swell of feeling if he’d wanted to; he was impressed, so much so he could feel it in his chest. Lance really did care about every one of his citizens, big or small, rich or poor, didn’t he?

The feeling wouldn’t go away all day. It didn’t take long before Lance finished up inspection of the building site, a personal inspection of something as unimportant as a public school, now that Keith thought about it. Either way after he finished it hardly took long for Lance to occupy himself with a new distraction.

It only took minutes for Lance to round up a group of children, and even less time to coerce them into a game. He beckoned Keith and Hunk and the other two guards all into playing too, rustling up a ball and starting a game out of it.

Keith and the others all played along, and for several hours everyone had fun with the kids. There were a pair of tiny brothers in particular who liked to give Keith trouble in the game, and when Keith wondered why Lance had laughed and said it was because they were fighting over how could impress Keith more, since they were both so taken by him. 

Keith kind of doubted that, but he had fun with everyone anyway. And more interestingly, so did Lance, who had more fun than anyone. 

Keith took a break after that, more interested in watching than he was playing. Not just the children themselves, who were a wonder to watch in al their strange tiny ways, but… Mostly he was watching Lance.

The Sultan of Altea, playing in the dirt with common children. And the strangest part was that to Keith, such behavior no longer seemed strange at all. 

Lance was just the type of person who did this. Everything he was he had on display, he hid absolutely nothing and never broke a promise or told Keith a lie. He was completely genuine in everything he did, which was rare for anyone much less a king.

And he was even a good king. He had such a great burden on his shoulders but still made time for the littlest parts of his kingdom, while working every day to keep an oversight on the big parts. Every dinner was talked through with discussions of politics, every night he came straight to Keith’s room from having worked from sunrise long past the hours of the dark. 

He cared so much about everyone, and it showed in everything he did. Keith had been looking this entire time for some type of flaw, something he was hiding from the world, some dark secret that made the previous members of the harem all leave him, but. His biggest flaw was that his own genuineness made him naive, that sometimes he could be stupid enough to belive everyone else was as good hearted as he was.

It made Keith want to protect him. Protect his from the huge dark scary world Keith had only seen the barest tastes of himself and still knew would chew up and spit out even the youngest and most innocent of child.

The thought of his own past made Keith shudder, a sick twisting feeling in his stomach.

He still hadn’t forgotten about his brother. But how could he stay close to Lance and protect him and also look for a brother he only had the vaguest ideas of? His memory was so weak he could only remember the name “Takashi,” and follow rumors of a one-armed person of the same race as he was. Was that enough to leave Lance behind for? 

It wasn’t, but… As they rode back that evening, Keith knew he couldn’t let it go, either. Somehow, he had to start looking for Takashi. Somehow, he had to follow up on these rumors of a one-armed man, his only possible hope.

That night when they got home Lance read to him the story of Alibaba and the forty thieves he stole stole from, Keith thought of Alibaba’s poor brother Kassim. Dead for his own foolishness and greed, but oh how Alibaba mourned him. Grieved for him with such love that it got him caught again by the thieves who were searching for revenge.

Damn these stories were good. Lance had fallen asleep before explaining how Alibaba and Morgiana were going to get out of that one, and now Keith was all riled up and curious and anxious about his own brother, and he found sleep impossible.

He got up eventually, found comfort wandering around the empty halls of the palace in the deep night. 

He walked around on silent feet, not expecting to see or hear anything from anyone, as the entire palace should have been asleep aside from a few loyal guards keeping watch. 

That’s why it was such a surprise when he overheard two quiet voices at the end of the hallway. Slinking perfectly into the shadows and silencing his footsteps Keith followed the sound, determined that anyone up this late at night must be doing something interesting.

The source of the voices was a room, and Keith strayed from behind his wall just long enough to see Throk and someone else he didn’t recognize conspiring in low tones.

“It’s already set up now. They’ll arrive before the next full moon, and will take care of everything.”

“They’ll really do it?” The other voice asked Throk. “I don’t think you could find anyone in all Altea willing to.”

“That’s why they’re coming in from Daibazaal instead,” Throk reassured. “Don’t worry, they’re the best. The sultan won’t ever see this one coming.”

“If you say so,” the other man said, worriedly. “I just hope this will be worth it in the end.”

“Trust me. I’ve got friends in very high places.” 

They toasted, and the conversation turned to other things. Keith continued to listen for a long while after, hoping to get more details, but none were forthcoming. 

He crept back to bed, slipping in close to Lance to take comfort in the warmth of his body heat.

Now, on top of everything else. Something bad was coming, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

—

 

**Author's Note:**

> Like 15k of this fic is done and the rest I haven't touched in over a month


End file.
